


Last Stop

by ishka



Category: Free!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anxiety, Depression, Explicit Language, M/M, Sexual Content, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:39:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 86,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishka/pseuds/ishka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sousuke never figured he’d dramatically detonate his progress on his given career path with a few choice words and commit a small crime within the same evening. Haruka’s nearly finished picking up the pieces of his life when a jobless grump parks himself on his living room floor and shakes up what he has left to figure out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Completion notes: Haru’s progressive recovery from depression is A Thing. Sousuke has his lapses too. But this isn't a for a bleak, sad fic. Just two normal guys working through some of the trials of adulthood together while figuring out some new emotions. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ And MakoRin being little shits on the side.

_“Visit beautiful Sydney Australia, your dream destination!”_

Haruka really hates that commercial. 

He’s fairly certain his subconscious wrote and submitted the script six months ago to the Australian government along with a generous bribe to play it on Japanese television _as often as humanly possible._

He nearly knocks over the canvas he’s been working on in his hurry to grab the remote and change it. The television is white noise, generally, but that goddamn commercial punches through as roughly as a steel-toed boot to his chin every time. 

He had a nightmare about it once. Makoto laughed at that, accidentally he claimed, but Haruka didn’t find it to be very funny. A shark had chased him across a pool reciting that line over and over again until it caught him and dragged him down beneath the surface. At the very least, he remarked dryly to Makoto during the same conversation, his subconscious was no-nonsense. The way in which it chose to manifest his insecurities and hang-ups didn’t leave a lot of room for interpretation. 

Makoto _didn’t laugh_ at that.

Haruka turns the channel over to something inane and not on commercial break, golf at a glance, and falls back into his work. His current piece is expected by its commissioner in a day. It’s a forest. It’s awful. He’s fully aware he’s painting junk. He’s also fully aware he has bills. It’s better than swimming for money, he’s been reasoning since he started the business. This doesn’t crush his spirit quite as irreparably as that did. Not everything he does needs a piece of his heart forced into it. That much he has learned.

Swimming, however, remains sacred. He slogs through another two hours of work before he can’t stand all the green anymore and decides to find some blue. At some point during this particular painting the green transitioned from looking full of life to vaguely resembling the most offensive container of moldy food he’d ever seen buried in the back of Makoto’s fridge during an exceptionally awful finals week a few years prior. With that pleasant thought, he caps his paints and stores what he’s mixed already and walks to the bathroom to clean up his brushes and hands.

He lays out his jammers across his bed -he only has three pairs now, thanks- and runs his fingertips across each, settling for the far left. This pair isn’t as snug on his hips like the other two, and he’s spent the majority of his day feeling too constricted. 

He jogs to the fitness center out of habit. Him and Makoto kept up their runs right up until the night before Makoto left, and Haruka kept going. Makoto claims to run still, and Haruka simply has to take his word for it. Rin runs too early in the morning for Makoto, so honestly he’s slightly suspicious. _If_ he ever comes back, Haruka will make sure to find out.

He swims in the middle of the day so the pool isn’t too crowded. It’s typically only him and two or three others with the same idea, so they all keep to themselves. This time there’s only one other person when he leaves the locker room, and she’s graciously taken the end lane so Haruka can take up the other end and both can go on swimming like the other isn’t even there. 

Thoughts of mold fade away as soon as he submerges himself. He allows a proper stretch beneath the surface since he has a lot of room to work with, twirling and gliding along the bottom before resurfacing and hopping out to stand on the block and go for a few laps. 

He doesn’t count how many he swims or notice the woman edging closer until she’s already speaking.

“What sort of competitive times do you pull?”

He stares at her probably a moment too long. Outside of Makoto and business talk with clients, no one really goes out of the their way to speak to Haruka and he never noticed it until this very moment. 

“Um, I’m not sure,” he answers while moving his goggles up.

She scrunches her mouth up slightly and it pangs familiar. She looks a little like Nagisa. “There’s no way you don’t swim professionally. Your form is definitely coached.”

“I don’t anymore. So I don’t know how fast I swim.”

She keeps pushing and Haruka tries to stay polite. “I have a stopwatch, want me to time you?”

“I’m all right. Thanks.”

She tsk’s him of all things. “Too bad.”

“Not really.” He ends the conversation by pulling his goggles down and diving back in. Perhaps it says something for how fragile this all still is when he only makes it another two laps before feeling overcome with the need to get out of there as fast as possible. The woman casts him a look of confusion that he tries to ignore in favor of listening to his feet slap the deck on his way into the locker room. 

He notices his left knee is slightly sore by the time he gets to the shower. It isn’t an injury per se, but it does act up on occasion. It’s dull and largely ignorable; the doctors told him it’s nothing to worry about so long as he keeps his exercise casual. It still forces a certain melancholy to seep into the edges of his mood when it happens. He wonders if he kept going with the national team how bad it would’ve gotten, and knowing he dodged that bullet makes him feel marginally better. But not by much.

Of course he walks home in lieu of jogging, just to be safe.

Once he’s eaten an early dinner he rifles through his nightstand for his phone. It’s Tuesday, and Makoto calls on Tuesdays to regale him with all of the wonderful things he’s been up to. Haruka isn’t jealous, but he finds himself rolling his eyes a bit near the end of most of their conversations. 

Makoto and Rin deserve their happiness, that isn’t up for debate. But he hates when Makoto asks about _him_. Haruka sort of talked himself into a corner. Makoto thinks he’s up to much more than he actually is, and he’s in too deep to really admit that he isn’t up to anything at all. He absolutely cannot stand it when Makoto worries about him. So he lies.

“Haru!” Makoto greets excitedly when he picks up on the fourth ring. “How a- _Rin,”_ he gasps with a giggle, “stop! How are you doing?”

He’s already rolling his eyes. It might be a new record. “I’m good.”

“Oh! Did you finish that book I told you about?”

“I did,” Haruka answers. He did not. If he has to choke through even one more non-fiction inspirational biography for Makoto’s sake he might climb and then jump off the Tokyo Tower. “It was good.”

“I just loved that she was able to find a donor.”

“Well yes, any other outcome wouldn’t have made for an upbeat biography,” he says quickly before noticing it sounds slightly clipped.

Makoto skips a beat before responding. “I guess that’s true. So what did you work on this week?”

“A forest.”

“Oh, sounds nice and different from all of the Rainbow Bridge commissions you’ve been getting.”

Rin chimes in from the background. _“Haru, who gives a shit, how’s that new pool?”_

“Rin!” Makoto groans. 

“Tell him to go away.”

“He says go away,” Makoto says away from the receiver.

_“What?!”_

Haruka ignores it. “Are you two in Sydney much longer?”

“No, we’re heading for the U.S. in about a week actually. I wish I could tell you the reason for the race, I can’t keep up myself.”

_“It’s just a scrimmage! You should fly out!”_

Haruka sucks in a sharp breath through his nose. “Does he really need to do that?”

“I think so,” Makoto says apologetically. “Sorry Haru, he just wants to include you.”

“It’s annoying.”

“Sorry,” he repeats but makes no effort to do anything about it. “How’s the nursing home?”

“Oh, great,” he pushes through his teeth. “Nothing like geriatric water exercises to start your day off right.”

Makoto laughs. “Well it’s rewarding anyway, isn’t that what you said about it?”

It is what he said, the day after he stopped teaching the class by simply not showing up to do it anymore.

“Have you thought more about moving back to Iwatobi?” Makoto continues.

Haruka is relieved he’s jumped topics. “A little. But my business is here.”

Makoto hums. “You’re sitting on enough money to move back if you really wanted to.”

Truthfully, moving back to Iwatobi would make his life more boring than it already is. At least in the city there are things to do, even if he doesn’t take himself out much. “I know,” he says instead of admitting that. “I think I’m still okay here for now.”

“Whatever makes you happy, Haru.”

He’s had quite enough of this about himself for one evening. “Any updates on that idiot?”

“Oh, he broke a personal butterfly record yesterday racing with a teammate during practice. Well, only by maybe one-one-hundredth of a second-”

_“It still counts!”_

“-but it still counts.”

“He’s been improving with you there,” Haruka observes. 

Makoto makes a small noise of surprise he tries to hide and fails. “You think so?”

“Obviously. He’s also much more annoying with you there, so I guess he’s happier too.”

“Wow,” Makoto says without even a shred of sarcasm, “thanks Haru. Really.”

Haruka doesn’t see how it’s such an amazing thing to say, but then Makoto’s never really stopped gauging his self-worth on the happiness of others so he really shouldn’t be surprised. Of all of them, Makoto has probably changed the least.

Makoto keeps talking when he doesn’t say anything in response. “You know, I tried to coach him through backstroke the other day and I have to say... I’m relieved he doesn’t totally eclipse my talent in every hobby we share…” 

_“Holy shit that was rude, Makoto!”_

The attention is successfully diverted to Rin for the remainder of the conversation, as Haruka prefers. He puts up with it for another twenty minutes before Rin has basically taken Makoto’s phone away and won’t stop talking to him about swimming.

“I still swim Rin. Give it a rest.”

“You better not be lying because when I come vi-”

“ _I’m not._ I’m going to hang up now.”

“Wait, Haru!”

“Good night, Rin. Tell Makoto.”

The heels of his palms immediately slam into his temples as soon as he throws the phone onto the kotatsu and he lets out a quiet groan. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep up these conversations with them. They’re exhausting to speak to. Twice a week means he hangs up with a headache twice a week, too. 

He misses his and Makoto’s quiet relationship. Where he didn’t have to talk so much to get his point across. Makoto tells him constantly that he’s glad he can express himself easier now, but Haruka still finds it to be uncomfortable. There’s something to be said for peace and quiet.

He’s put off looking through his payment table for a solid week now, and figures now is as good a time as any while he already has a headache. He boots his laptop and gets the spreadsheet up, already dreading the next paltry ten minutes of work he needs to do. There aren’t a lot of payments to keep track of, but some clients are on payment plans, others haven’t paid him at all, and he needs to stay on top of it.

One outstanding invoice in particular has been annoying him. He should’ve been paid for it over a month ago, and the company keeps promising that the check is in the mail when it clearly has never been put into the mail. It was for a painting he didn’t even want to sell; a galaxy reflected in the puddles after the rain. It was personal and he shouldn’t have agreed to part with it, but he was in a low mood when he listed it for sale and they offered to buy it from him. He does that occasionally; parts with pieces he doesn’t really want to get rid of after a few too many bad days and regrets it later.

With a mouth set into a hard line he resolves to take care of it the following day, as this has gone on long enough. It’s a multi-million yen financial firm. There’s no reason for the delay. 

He’s up until midnight, which is late for him, doing nothing he will remember having done a day from now. He falls asleep with the television on and jolts awake some time after 2:00 AM at the sound of those piercing words: _“Visit beautiful Sydney Australia, your dream destination!”_

He takes himself to bed and tries not to think about doing all of this all over again the next day.

-

“Accounts payable, please.”

“One moment.”

An awful ukulele song replaces the operator while he’s placed on hold. How does this make waiting better?

“Accounting,” comes the already annoyed greeting once the line is picked up.

“I’m looking for payment on a past-due invoice.”

“Name.” It’s not even a question. Haruka is already ruffled.

“Cascade Artworks. It-”

“‘Sec.”

He’s put on hold again. The guy didn’t even ask for an invoice number. A few solid minutes go by.

“Says it’s cut and in the mail.”

Haruka thinks he might be arrested for murder by the end of the day at this rate. “That’s what your department has told me every week for the last four weeks.”

“Then it’s in the mail.”

“It does not take a month to mail a check.”

“I’ll put a stop on the check and cut and mail a new one, then,” the accountant- or whatever he is -answers with an audible sigh.

“Forget it. Cut it again and hold onto it, I’m just going to come pick it up.”

“We can’t hold it.”

Haruka bristles. He is quickly approaching his patience limit and this guy’s tone is an impressive catalyst to it. “You better find a tack and a board to pin it up with then.”

“Sir, this isn’t a department for customers to walk into.”

“What? You’re my customer, and you haven’t paid me. I’m picking up my money. I’ll be there in an hour, so who can I ask for?”

“ _Jesus_ I just don't _care._ ”

Haruka is actually _hung up on_ and he doesn’t get angry often but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t twisting his cellphone in his hands and grinding his teeth together for a solid minute thereafter. Now he needs to get his check out of raw spite. No one has crawled under his skin that quickly in recent memory.

He steps off of a bus forty-five minutes later and walks the last few blocks to the imposing _Hazama & Akira Financial_ building. Even for the thick of the business sector of this part of Tokyo, it’s an overwhelming installation. People in suits are spilling out of it and tumbling into it, like a bunch of salmon fighting a current. He’s dressed in something a notch below acceptable day attire, but then again he wasn’t planning on leaving his apartment today anyway and he has no one to impress.

He takes a moment to stuff down the anxiety that’s creeping up on him to be around so much activity, and jaunts up the steps quickly, keeping his goal in mind to get himself through this. With a tiny nod he grabs a brass door handle and goes to pull, but is knocked away by someone stepping out before he has a chance.

“Sorry,” Haruka barely hears cast in his direction. He doesn’t really sound sorry at all. In fact, it’s the same damn voice that-

_Wait._

“Hey!” Haruka calls, and the man turns around. “You’re that idi-” The guy is staring at him agape from a step below and Haruka is definitely matching his imitation of a landed trout. “...Yamazaki.” 

_“Sousuke”_ doesn’t quite feel comfortable, even if it’s where they left things the last time they spoke. The other seems to agree. “Nanase.” He looks beyond uncomfortable in his suit, even pulling at his collar as he stares. Haruka thinks he looks about the same, just slightly more angular now that his twenties are in full swing.

“You’re kidding me, right? You’re the moron I just dealt with?”

Sousuke doesn’t look like he has any idea what Haruka’s talking about until his eyes narrow suddenly. _“Cascade Artworks?”_ he says a bit loudly and incredulously. “Wow. I- Fucking _wow._ ”

He ignores the painfully obvious mocking. “Do you have the check?”

“I told you that you can’t come get it!”

“Well I’m sick of waiting!”

Sousuke throws his head back and stares blankly at the sky, chest heaving dramatically with a sigh while the salmon part around them. “I can’t believe this,” he mutters. “I just want to go eat my damn lunch.”

Haruka has no sympathy. “Get me the check, and you can go do that.”

Sousuke squares his jaw and sighs again, walking back towards the doors. Haruka follows in after him. “Just stay,” he barks. “I’ll bring it to you.”

“I don’t trust you not to escape out a different door.”

He only groans in response. 

They take a long, silent, elevator ride up to the eighteenth floor and go down a dizzying labyrinth of cubicles until Sousuke turns and holds his hands out to get Haruka to wait before turning and disappearing down another row. Good enough; Haruka’s blocking the exit anyway. He waits.

It takes ten minutes, but Sousuke re-emerges from cloth-covered divider hell with a check and all but shoves it at him before walking past and back out the way they came with a spiteful glare. 

Haruka remembers him being a little prickly, but this is something else. 

They’re almost back out the front of the building when the painting in question catches his eye in the lobby. He stops and walks over to it, giving it one last longing look goodbye. He’d hastily wrapped it and shipped it when it sold, not even sparing it a glance. At least now he can part with it properly.

The night sky after a rain, every color imaginable sparkling in the puddles. It’s so much more than the memory of his high school training camp. It’s the sky outside the airplanes he traveled on while he was on the national swim team, the thoughts of his friends who would catch him. The stars are the only things that kept him together long enough to escape with any sense of self at all. And he _sold_ them.

He frowns deeply at it then looks down at the check in his hand. Why did he do it? It wasn’t worth any amount of money. He essentially put a price on his memories, _his sanity_ , and he feels like garbage for it. A numbness buzzes at his fingertips and slowly travels up his arms and to his head, his back, his legs.

“What’s your problem?” Sousuke asks gruffly from behind. Haruka starts. He thought the other had just kept on going.

“Nothing.”

“This the painting you sold?”

He nods.

“It’s good.”

“I didn’t even want to sell it,” he finds himself saying out loud.

“Then why did you? Wasn’t like it was that much money.”

“I don’t know.” He drops the the check onto the ground and turns and shoulders past him.

Sousuke pinches the inside corners of his eyes at his sudden change in demeanor. "Oh, okay. You’re still fucking annoying, good to know,” he mutters while Haruka walks across the lobby. “Well, see you next decade,” he finishes sarcastically, whirling around to talk at his retreating back. _“Goodbye to you, too!”_

The rest of his day doesn’t go much better, and he’s late with his commissioned forest by a day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke makes a judgement call. Related: Sousuke's bad at judgement calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Byyyyy the way this whole thing is alternating POV. Forgot to mention that.

“Accounting,” Sousuke answers with his forehead pressed firmly onto the top of his desk. “No. Invoices totalling over fifty-thousand yen require additional approval before payment.” He waits for the string of questions he already knows is coming. “This typically adds an additional week to processing time. We appreciate your patience.” 

He hangs up and counts to forty-two before the phone rings again.

“I’m going to lunch,” he announces without much conviction. No one cares if he does. Hopefully today he won’t run smack into Haruka Nanase, but as far as his luck goes he’ll likely run into someone worse. 

Like his fucking boss.

“Ah, Mr. Yamazaki, I was just coming to find you. All set on those reports for tomorrow’s month-end?”

“I am, Mr. Yamada. They’re _all set._ ” Sousuke just hates how this guy speaks. More than most other things he hates.

“Good, good,” his boss coos, slapping him on the shoulder. Sousuke wonders for the millionth time if anyone would notice if he invited Mr. Yamada on a camping trip and returned alone. “Keep it up, Mr. Yamazaki. Say, could you do me favor?”

He almost made it. He nearly made it to lunch today. “Of course, sir.”

“Well with Ms. Touya on leave, I’m just having a hard time reconciling…” Sousuke tunes him out at that.

“I’ll do it,” he answers after the speaking stops, though he didn’t hear a word.

“Great, great. I need it by 1:30.” It’s fucking 12:15, of course. Also _why_ does this asshole feel compelled to repeat his pleasantries twice, _every time?_

“I’ll get it done,” he answers with a curt bow of his head before returning to his desk.

At 1:27 he fires off the e-mail to his boss with a stack of reports attached. One of them is probably what he was looking for.

 _wonderful, wonderful!_ he receives in an e-mail back not even a minute later. He drags his hands down the front of his face and tries not to scream. It’s a garbled rumble that crashes into the back of his tightly closed lips. 

He waits to eat until dinner now, because what’s the point in trying to leave again? He won’t even make it to the elevator as long as Yamada is on the floor. The fucker in question leaves promptly by 4:30, and Sousuke’s stuck there until 6:00 finishing what he didn’t. 

Finally free, Sousuke hops the train back to his station and drags himself to the gym to finally hit things he’s allowed to hit and lift the rest of what he can’t hit without breaking his hand over. It’s been three days since he was able to make it to the gym, and it’s just as bad as not having been laid in three months. Which is also the case. He isn’t as diligent over the latter thing compared to the former. At least the gym doesn’t expect breakfast in the morning. He’s only thinking of it at all because he catches himself staring at nearly everyone there. 

In any case he’ll have to go three months and change tonight. He’s too tired to go out. That in and of itself is a job and Sousuke is less and less inclined to to pursue anyone as his days drag on. He thinks on it during his walk back home if only because he doesn’t let himself mull over his extracurricular activities too often, but acknowledging he’d rather go home and sleep than get off with a stranger is a new development. He thinks he might be getting too old for that sort of thing, but he argues with himself that he had a late start.

He was so invested in swimming, in catching up to Rin during his teenage years that he never thought twice about relationships that weren’t with Rin, Rin, _Rin_. Once his shoulder fell apart he thought of it even less, and after Rin left _again_ , Sousuke stopped thinking about him too. 

University was the straw to break the camel’s back, so to speak. It left him so miserable he looked for any outlet he could find. He took quickly to letting himself be baited and hooked with suggestive nods towards various bedrooms at whatever parties he ended up at with whoever offered, typically. Looking back he was a bit pent-up from ignoring those urges during his formative years. He tries not to cringe too much when he thinks of it. At least he was safe and didn’t knock anyone up or accumulate any diseases. 

He was simply lonely and frustrated with his life. Which isn’t to say he isn’t now, but he was less equipped to deal with it all then.

He _wanted_ to study physical therapy and got stuck with the bullshit sapping the life out of him now. Job security, his father told him while he signed the tuition checks. He couldn’t afford it on his own and his father knew it.

Job security, Sousuke thought with a bitter laugh when _Yamazaki Financial_ changed to _Hazama & Akira Financial_ and he was demoted and shoved into a corner cubicle with a promise to move up "eventually". Stick with it, his father advised him at his retirement party.

Fucking maddening. His teeth still taste metallic when he thinks of it. 

Sousuke walks through his door and lets out a very long breath and all of his tension with it. He doesn’t allow that bullshit inside his own house. This is where he comes to relax. It’s his number one rule, the most sacred thing: no whining about his life past the threshold. 

He hums lowly to himself while he heats up last night’s leftovers. A simple curry. He just isn’t much for food that’s too complicated, and he cooks simple things exceptionally well in his humble opinion. 

It’s better the next day, which is part of the appeal to making curries for one. He eats it over his laptop, and checks up on people. Rin can kiss his ass, but everyone else always has something interesting going on. Even Makoto, who he tries not to be annoyed with by association, usually posts a nice photo or fifty from wherever the two of them have ended up this week. Looks like they’re still in Sydney for now, as he’s posted a photo of some gross looking street food that Sousuke immediately recognizes as Australian. Followed by a tooth-achingly awful photo of the two of them.

Awful in that it’s fucking perfect, of course. Damned if they don’t deserve each other to be disgusting with. He’s glad he ultimately did _not_ sign up for that. Something with a gaudy glint catches his eye in the photo before he closes it and he sets his bowl down hard enough on the table next to his chair to make the ceramic rattle and snatches his phone quickly to dial Gou.

“Hey Sou!”

“What the fuck am I looking at?” he asks immediately.

“Well I don’t know, what are you looking at, grumpy?”

“Is that a goddamn ring on your brother’s finger?”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?”

His stomach bottoms out. “No.”

“...Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh._ ”

“Well it’s just a… commitment thing, really. Not a real engagement. Like a pre-engagement. He probably didn’t think you’d find it interesting.”

“What the _fuck_ does that even mean?”

She laughs. “You got me, honestly. I think it’s silly too. Seems to make sense to them though.”

“I just hate him so much,” he pushes out through clenched teeth.

“No, you don’t,” Gou chides with a giggle.

He sighs. “No, I don’t.”

“He should’ve told you though, even if you’d only make fun of him.”

“I wouldn’t have made fun of him, come on.”

“He hates when you call him a romantic.”

“Well he is one!” Sousuke argues petulantly.

She laughs again. He’s always just so funny to her, isn’t he? “Yes, but you say it with such _judgement._ Like you’re not one deep down.”

He groans. “Oh my god, why did I even call you?”

“To whine about Rin to me instead of calling him and confronting him yourself, as you usually do?”

He resumes clicking through photos, most of his anger subsiding. Honestly it’s why he called her and not Rin in the first place. She knows how to talk him down in a smaller number of words. “No one gets me like you do, Gou. Let’s get married.”

She makes a noise of disgust like she tends to do when he deflects in such a way. “Go away, Sousuke.”

He chuckles. “Good night, Gou. Sorry for bitching. But, you know, thiiiink about it. ”

“I will not! Good night!” She giggles as she hangs up, undermining her feigned disgust.

When these marriage proposals started, he doesn’t remember. But he knows _she_ started it by declaring the same thing during a reversed situation. Something about one of her exes. He doesn’t remember which one; she has more than he has. No one’s good enough for her, Sousuke reminds her often with affection. _“Oh please,”_ she answers every time. He half-considers every so often propositioning a serious 'if we aren’t married by forty, let’s actually get married' type pact to her, but knows he isn’t good enough either.

Gou ended up working in rehabilitation and not training or nutrition, to most everyone’s surprise. She’s a year out of school now and works with spine injuries and sports injuries, mostly. She claims it had nothing to do with him, and he believes her. She isn’t one to make decisions out of pity. It just ended up appealing to her during her physical therapy rotations. She gets to do what he wants to do, so he loves to hear about it and they speak often. He tries to study it on the side, just so he can hold his own in a conversation with her about it. 

In short, she’s his glimpse into a better life.

He shoots off a sarcastic _congratulations_ text to Rin and knows the other will read it as such and ignore it. Dick.

Sick of the social upkeep, he closes out of all of it and goes for something else. The whole run-in with Nanase has been in the back of his mind. Not the event itself, he couldn’t care less, but the end of it is sticking on him like a tacky clearance sticker. He sells his art for a living, why was he hung up on that one painting? It was good, sure, but that’s what he does. It’s commercial, nothing personal. Then to throw the check to the ground when he went an hour out of his way for it is even weirder.

He searches _cascade artworks_ , and scoffs again at the name of it. Normal artists would go by their names. The website is simple, available paintings presented in a table with title and pricing. His “about” section is nearly blank. It literally says: _An artist living in Tokyo._ Well no shit, idiot. He has no photograph, no background, nothing else. Not even part of his name.

He doesn’t charge nearly enough for what look to be originals, in Sousuke’s opinion. A flat seventy-thousand yen for gigantic canvases. They’re scenescapes, mostly. Some architecture here and there. Some impressions he recognizes as being vaguely Iwatobi, but obviously painted from memory and going more for a presentation of an idea than for accuracy. Those ones don’t even look finished. 

All in all, his available paintings are _boring_. Not bad, just boring. Lifeless and commercial, like he expected.

What he saw in the lobby was not boring. It was intriguing. And he thinks he sort of understands why Nanase was upset. He sold a painting he did for himself and regretted it.

That answers that. He shuts down his laptop and doesn’t even think of it for the rest of the night.

A scalding hot shower that leaves him flushed makes him feel leagues better about his day overall. With summer at its peak right now, he barely makes it into a pair of boxers. He has, what is in his opinion, a not so irrational fear that the one time he sleeps naked the entire building will catch on fire and he’ll be forced to evacuate with nothing on. It may or may not stem from a similar incident during his time living in the dorm. Gou laughed so hard she choked when she heard about what may or may not have happened.

He snorts to himself at the memory and crashes onto his couch, turning the television on.

_“Visit beautiful Sydney Australia, your dream destination!”_

“It’s every two seconds with this commercial,” he mutters out loud. Nothing is dreamy about Australia. Especially being stuck in a room with those two… just being themselves… _god._

He finds another channel and falls asleep to a foreign action movie with one of those square-jawed western actors that fall victim to his knack for face blindness, and tries not to think about doing all of this all over again the next day.

-

Sousuke sets up in the conference room a few minutes early the following morning so that he can sit there in silence until Yamada and his squad of slimy middle managers shuffle in to look pseudo-pensively over the reports he presents that Sousuke already knows they won’t understand. 

He’s five minutes into his presentation and wills lightning to strike him down whenever it’s ready. Anytime now.

“For our contractuals, we came in under budget by about five percent this mont-”

“Mr. Yamazaki, how are we under five percent if your graph here shows we are over budget by nearly one-million yen?” Yamada interrupts.

“... As I explained, the nine-hundred and eighty thousand is a variance approved by the CEO, as depicted by the dotted line. There was an amendment made with the chemicals supplier that allocated them more money to hire a business liaison. For the purposes of our budget, we are under five percent so far this fiscal year.”

“I see, I see.” Sousuke feels his eye twitch at the repetition. “Carry on.”

“Our supplies costs are up half a percent; this likely has to do with the onboarding of the approved new positions that have been filled. The new software adopted in marketing has a spread costs across all departm-”

“Mr. Yamazaki.”

“Yes, Mr. Yamada?”

“I thought that software was approved in last year’s budget.”

“It was, and the software was not acquired in time. The money wasn’t used, and was carried over to this fiscal year. It was purchased officially mid-July, per your approval.”

“Right, right. I remember now.”

“The costs have been spread across all departments,” Sousuke continues, turning back to the screen. “Investments came in low, this is expected to recover based on projections from our analysts. Bad debt we have little of, but then again we’re only a month in. Write-offs are the same situation.”

He goes on and on and on and doesn’t feel like it will ever end. Yamada interrupts him three more times about shit he should already fucking know, and when he turns to face them all he eyes the clock in the back of the room and is relieved that his hour is finally, finally up. 

“That’s about it,” he concludes.

“Thank you Mr. Yamazaki, this was very thorough, as always.”

Middle management closes their folders and files out through the door while Sousuke turns off the equipment. Yamada lingers because _of course_ he does. 

“Mr. Yamazaki, would you mind stopping by for a chat on your way out today?”

He definitely does not get the scowl off of his face in time for it to be unnoticeable. “You leave before me sir, would you like me to stop by earlier?”

“No worries, I’ll wait for you.”

“I’ll try and finish up as early as I can, then.”

“Excellent,” Yamada says. Sousuke waits. “Excellent.” _There_ it is. He digs his fingernails into his palms as his boss turns and leaves.

He doesn't think anything of it for a moment other than annoyance until he makes a small gasp in realization.

He’s _definitely_ getting fired. Finally. Like taking a sick horse out back and fucking shooting it already. Rarely in his life would anyone describe him as giddy, yet here he is nearly laughing with elation. This is it. All he’s wanted since starting here.

He unplugs the phone back as his desk and mulls over screwing over a few important reports so they won’t run right, but only by a few yen. So nothing will ever tie out evenly as it should ever again, and none of the assholes he works for will ever be able to figure out why.

He refrains, barely.

Instead he takes an early lunch, and treats himself to katsudon. There’s a small courtyard in the middle of a bunch of buildings that he frequents to take his lunches at. He sort of wonders what he did to merit getting canned, and sort of doesn’t care what it was at the same time. Maybe Nanase reported him for hanging up on him as an act of petty revenge. Or one of the other twenty people he hung up on this week did. Maybe all of them did. 

What matters is that he is only a few hours from freedom.

Sousuke owed it to his father not to purposefully fuck his career over since he made sure Sousuke still even had a job at all after the ownership transition. There’s some pension he’s entitled to due to his father formerly owning the company. He’s never cared about that though. He’s been waiting for this day. Dreaming of it for two years. 

This is probably the best katsudon he’s ever had. He makes sure it takes two hours to eat.

The rest of his day he promptly dismisses. Back at his desk he pops in his earbuds and plays solitaire. When 5:30 rolls around, he’s ready to walk out of this prison for the last time. He’s not sure they could pay him more to stay at this point. 

“I’m all done for the day, sir,” he greets a bit too cheerfully after letting himself into Yamada’s office. 

“Ah, yes, yes, Mr. Yamazaki please take a seat.”

He does as he’s told and nearly hums as he walks over to the chair.

“I wanted to talk to you about the direction of the company.”

Good opener.

“There’s a significant shift in moving a lot of what we do under one umbrella, so to speak. Many of our clients employ their own accounting staff, and we see an opportunity here to bring it all in house.”

Alarms sound off spectacularly from every corner of his mind. This isn’t how firings go. 

“That means a fair bit of consolidation, as you might imagine. I won’t bore you with the figures.” Because he doesn’t fucking _know_ them, Sousuke thinks. “But essentially it means there will be a need to eliminate redundant positions and shuffle a few of our people around.”

His breathing dies in his lungs.

“You’re one of those people we’d like to shuffle around.”

He thinks he might resemble a marble statue all of a sudden. There’s a high-pitched ring replacing most of his thought processes. Why is he here if he’s _not getting canned_?

Yamada continues with obvious trepidation at the lack of response. “...We believe you shoulder quite a bit. Between payment inquiry and the reports we’ve put you in charge of, not to mention Ms. Touya’s work you’ve so graciously picked up, we think you’re overburdened.”

“I’m not,” he catches himself saying when he should probably not be saying anything.

“Yes, yes, well, we wouldn’t want you to burn out. So we’re planning on shifting some of your duties to some of the people we will absorb.”

Sousuke blinks slowly, still floating somewhere on another plane of existence. If he isn’t getting fired… he was so ready to leave. What will he do with himself now? What was the point of this meeting that would’ve been better suited as an e-mail? “Uh, okay,” he pushes out dumbly.

“In order to do this, due to fair market for the position we’re speaking of…”

 _Oh._

Just like that he's back to reality. Now he gets it. “You’re demoting me,” Sousuke fills in thickly. _“Again.”_

“Not quite, Mr. Yamazaki, not quite. Simply a reduction in job expectations means a reduction in salary. Slight, I assure you.”

“Oh my _god,_ ” he suddenly exclaims. Something in him breaks away into the abyss as he says it. He will later recognize it as the last tiny shred of decorum and respect for Yamada he had left. Yeah, fuck it. Enough of this.

“Excuse me?” his definitely soon-to-be-former boss squeaks.

“You fucker I thought you’d finally just fire me!” Sousuke snaps. “This is ten times worse! I don’t even want to work here for what I make now! _And you want to pay me less?!_ ” he rants with a crack in his voice on the end. “Again?! Are you _insane?_ ”

Yamada is shocked, and to his credit is still able to speak. “I beg your pardon! This is highly unlike you!”

Sousuke sits back in the chair and laughs. “A demotion. Twice. Wow, Yamada, it’s almost as if… wait. _You fucking wanted this!_ ” He throws himself forward again and braces his hands on his thighs. “You wanted me to quit! That’s why you called me in here on a Friday afternoon! Get rid of the last Yamazaki tying up your fucking investment money. Let me do you one last favor then.” 

_“Mr. Yama-”_

“Hey, hold on, before you continue, I don’t give a shit.” He stands and slams the chair back into its recess in front of the desk. “So shove it up your ass.”

“I’m calling security!”

“I’m walking out willfully you fucking dildo, save your breath.”

Yamada throws himself halfway over his desk. “Your father will hear about this, mark my words,” he growls.

Sousuke laughs again. “I’m twenty-four; _I do not care._ Wanna come out of the closet to him for me too while you're tattling? Though he might already know that, since you've been fucking me for two years.” Yamada goes deathly silent and his face is redder than his tie. Sousuke takes a sarcastic bow and departs. He slams the door to the office on his way out and carries himself out of the building with a bounce in his step, only stopping by his desk for the few photos he’s kept there and his keys. 

The building is already emptying out since it’s a Friday, so by the time he’s in the lobby there’s only the tiny receptionist that not so subtly tries to make a pass at him every time he walks by her. He’s nearly to the door and stops in his tracks.

The painting.

He turns on his heel and walks over to where it’s hanging above a small seating area and yanks it down; hardware tearing through the drywall. The frame cracks, so he pulls the canvas from it and kicks it aside.

“Um, excuse me!” the little receptionist squeaks.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says with a wink. While that doesn’t mean shit, she sits back in confusion anyway and doesn’t say anything else. He knows the camera in the lobby doesn’t work because no one’s approved the money to get it fixed until recently. 

People stare at him for most of the ride home, as he’s taking up a bit of room with his trophy on the train. He puts on his best scowl to deflect any more attention than that. Inside he’s bursting over. This might be the greatest day of his life. He’s never snapped at anyone like that before. He’s certain he’s immortal. Probably. 

Once home he grabs the crumpled check Nanase dropped on the ground off the top of the trash for his address and not so carefully tosses the painting against a wall. He’ll deal with all that tomorrow. Tonight he walks with a tune on his lips to the bathroom to get ready to go out and put an end to his dry spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point in my life I said these words to myself: "I need to have someone call someone else a dildo in one of my Free! fanfics, but _who and where_?" So in sum, Rin dodged a bullet.
> 
> Almost out of the slow but necessary introductions. Give me one more chapter.
> 
> iskabee@tumblr


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru has a setback and Rin fucks up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All depictions of depression/anxiety I'm using in this story either come from accounts of people I've known or from personal past experience. Obviously experience isn't all encompassing of everyone's reality, but know that I am doing what I can to not come from a position of ignorance. Misrepresentation/romanticization is not the goal.
> 
> Let's lighten the tone. Alternate chapter summary: The sort of developments that calling someone a dildo can set into motion.

Haruka wonders how long it’s been day outside when he flips over and squints into the sun stabbing through the slats of his bedroom window. The comforter has been tucked up under his chin and he’s roasting underneath it. He throws it off of him with a small noise of disgust and fans out across his bed to try and cool down.

He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and checks the time: 2:03 PM

The last time he checked the time it was 4:48 PM, meaning he’s been lying there for nearly an entire day.

He considers rolling back over anyway. But his throat is bone dry, his head is screaming, and his back is sore. At the very least, he can’t ignore his physical needs. He sits up and wobbles over a short spell of vertigo, pressing a hand to his forehead to steady himself before begrudgingly throwing one foot after the other over the side of the bed and pushing to an uneasy stand. 

Haruka’s exhausted again by the time he drinks water and eats a few stale crackers he left out the day prior. He catches his reflection on his way back to his bedroom and at least decides to wash his face. The cold water makes him shudder and he’s freezing all over again. The high-afternoon hellscape of his bed is appealing now. 

His phone goes off in his drawer but he’s already turned away from it. He sort of remembers that he missed his phone call with Makoto the night prior, and the other is likely now worried about him. He hasn’t come up with a new excuse yet so it’ll have to wait. 

That stupid painting. Months without feeling this way, and here he is. And it’s his own fault.

When he comes to again the sun is on its way down and there’s a steady rap on his front door pulling him from his fog. He curls up tighter and tugs the pillow over his head, but can still hear the persistent knocking over the next few minutes. Vague utterances reach him; whoever is at the door thinks Haruka can hear it. Maybe he ordered something and forgot about it and needs to sign for it.

For the second time that day he forces himself out of bed and labors to the door. The headache is worse than it was earlier.

He closes the door as soon as he sees Sousuke on the other side through the small opening he makes.

“What the hell!” Haruka hears through the door as soon as it latches shut. “Nanase!” He falls forward and rests his head on the line between the door and the frame. “Nanase! Come on!”

“What,” he hisses hopefully loud enough for the other to hear.

“Just open the goddamn door,” Sousuke whines.

“I don’t want the money,” he answers.

“And I don’t have it. I brought you the painting, jackass.”

Haruka furrows his eyebrows and frowns. “...Why?”

“I’ve seriously been standing out here for twenty minutes is this really how you want to have this conversation?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck!” he yells with exasperation. “Whatever. I’ll leave it propped on the door. Supposed to rain, you might consider grabbing it sometime in the next week.”

His footsteps sound his retreat and Haruka panics. He throws open the door before he even knows why he’s doing it and ignores the canvas in question falling against his shins as he does. “Wait,” he calls meekly.

Sousuke turns and looks at him impassively. He looks a little rough to Haruka. If he notices the physical disarray Haruka is in as well, he doesn’t show it on his face right away. “Why?” he asks again.

“...You sick?”

 _“Why?”_ he repeats.

“Are you going too let me in or not?” Sousuke asks cautiously.

Haruka turns and walks away from the door but leaves it open, letting the canvas fall to the ground. It’s the last thing he wants to see. He makes it as far as his couch, though he’d much prefer to get back into bed. Sousuke follows and stoops to grab the painting on his way in, gently setting it on the kitchen counter before walking to stand awkwardly in front of the ball of Haruka currently occupying the couch. 

“Hey Nanas-”

“Just tell me why.”

He’s not looking at Sousuke as he’s facing away, but can feel him shuffling uneasily from foot to foot. Haruka doesn’t owe him anything by way of explanation so he hopes Yamazaki will cut to the chase and not take up a sudden interest in his life.

“I quit my job and took it with me,” Sousuke finally explains after a few minutes. “Grabbed it on my way out. Seemed like it meant something to you, and I know it didn’t mean anything to those soulless fucks.”

“You stole it. Great.”

“They technically never paid for it,” he says haughtily. “I repossessed it.” 

“Okay,” Haruka responds, out of energy once more. Now he just wants Yamazaki to leave again, the odd surge of anxiety from before dissipating away. Maybe it’s because he always had Makoto when he felt this way, and now that it’s happening to him alone for the first time in a while he mistakenly latched onto the nearest person on pure instinct. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense to him on the fly.

_“...Okay?”_

“Thanks. You can leave now.”

“You don’t… look very good,” Sousuke mutters.

“Neither do you.”

Sousuke scoffs. “I’m hungover. What’s your excuse? Do you need a doctor? I can call one for you.”

“Please leave.”

Haruka hears him sit and get settled at his kotatsu instead, which is very much the opposite of what he wants, but he can’t find it in him to yell. He opts to ignore him and try and get some more sleep. He doesn’t know Sousuke, so he doesn’t particularly care in the end that he’s there for now. If it were Makoto or Rin he might be more persistent in getting them to leave. If Yamazaki wants to sit there in silence while Haruka sleeps, more power to him. He’ll get bored in twenty minutes and leave anyway. Haruka’s drifting off as soon as he decides this...

...And waking up from a deep sleep with his teeth put on edge.

_“Visit beautiful Syd-”_

Haruka sits up at a breakneck pace in the now dark room and whips his head to the television, then over to Sousuke who is lying on his floor next to the kotatsu with the remote in his hand. “Turn it off!” he screams at him, causing Sousuke to jump out of his skin before he angles his head back with a deep frown.

“The fuck, Nanase?”

“Turn it off!”

“All right, all right,” Sousuke mumbles, hitting the red power button. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you still _here?!_ ” he yells.

Sousuke sits up all the way and turns to face him cross-legged. “Because of what _this_ is,” he answers waving generally at Haruka. 

“Get _out_ of my apartment. I can’t believe I have to ask you more than once, _Yamazaki,_ ” he says with strain on his name to emphasize their lack of relationship.

“I go through this too-”

 _“Stop,”_ Haruka pleads. 

“Just let me sit here, I don’t even give a shit about the reason, I’m not making you say anything. All I know is that Rin and Tachibana don’t know about this, do they? You’re not the type to mention something like this if you can get away with it.”

Haruka’s next demand that Yamazaki get out is caught in his throat. The fight leaves him, because if that’s a _threat_ it isn’t a bluff he wants to try and call. “Then do whatever you want,” he mumbles, easing back down and staring up at the ceiling.

Sousuke picks up on it and sighs. “That came out wrong. I wouldn’t tell them. If you really want me to go, I will. It’s just…” He pauses and grumbles something under his breath. “Look, I do know what… I mean I understand because I‘ve been there... it’s helped me in the past. If I just knew someone was nearby. That’s all. If it doesn’t help you, I’ll go. We don’t have to be friends to want to help each other out I just thought you maybe didn’t want to be alone and didn’t realize it. Or something.”

Haruka stays silent for a few beats and rolls this whole thing over in his head a few times instead of giving it the reactionary response he wants to and has been giving on the surface. It’s not unpleasant company, not really. Sousuke’s quiet which is just the sort of company he’s been craving, honestly. Maybe it will help cut this… episode or whatever he’s found himself in short. Or distract him for a little bit, anyway.. “...Just don’t let that commercial play.”

Sousuke snorts and the high pitched ring of the television being turned back on cuts through the air. “Yeah, I hate it too.”

Haruka feels like he won’t be getting much more sleep tonight, if only because it’s all he’s done for over twenty-four hours now and the other needs he’s been able to suppress are starting to fight against him. He feels dirty, dehydrated, and frail. That he registers this at all is a good sign at the very least.

“Hey, Nanase,” Sousuke says casually from his reclaimed lounge on the floor after a bit, “I’m sorry for the other day. I was a huge prick to you.”

It’s a stark new development in his personality from their last encounter. Haruka sits up and and nestles into the corner of the couch, drawing his knees up to his chest. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not. I took out my bullshit on you, as usual. Picked up right where we left off. I’m not like that anymore, at least I try not to be. So really, I’m sorry.”

He looks for any sort of indication that the other is being sarcastic and doesn’t find it. “...Thanks, I guess.” He doesn’t feel as foggy now that he’s upright. Maybe not happier, but he’s not compulsively trying to get back to his bed either.

“Yeah.” Sousuke clears his throat, it sounds nervous. “Anyway.”

“Why did you quit?” Haruka inquires in an effort to save him from further humiliation and to try and keep himself from withdrawing again. 

The other laughs dryly. “Why didn’t I, would be the shorter answer. I hated it there. Called my boss a dildo and walked out.”

Haruka unwillingly chokes out a strangled vowel. Not from amusement, just surprise. _“What?”_

Sousuke chuckles. “Yeah it was not… my most mature moment.”

“That’s saying something.”

Sousuke glares at him but lets it by. “I regret it. Sort of. He just, you know, pushed me. Too far. Then he wanted to demote me- again. So I quit, naturally. I’m probably officially blacklisted from finance work in the greater Tokyo area for the rest of my life. There was a pension I gave up. My dad’s probably going to disown me.” Haruka’s aware that Yamazaki is using him to vent now, since obviously Haruka doesn’t have the details to really fill in these bullet points with, but he finds he doesn’t mind it. “Which is all fine by me.”

“So now you’re jobless.”

“So now I’m jobless,” he confirms. “I’ll worry about it in a week or so.” It seems to be all Sousuke has to say about it, as he turns his attention back to the television.

At some point during the last two days since he ate a full meal, Haruka’s body must have forgone normal hunger alarms and transitioned to an all-encompassing emptiness. As his consciousness recovers from the twilight he’s been stuck in, the lack of nourishment hits him hard. He feels brittle and nauseous at the same time. An appetite is also usually a good sign.

He pads to the kitchen and Sousuke doesn’t even twitch to see what he’s doing. In the past and at his worst, when his entire life was one long endless _episode,_ Makoto hovered over him obnoxiously and made sure he ate and bathed without considering Haruka _wanted_ to do those things. Makoto didn’t understand, and probably still doesn’t, that he wasn’t _willfully_ starving himself or staying unkempt. It was one thing to help him make food or draw him a bath, it was another when Makoto accused him in that slightly infuriating non-accusatory tone of his of doing it on purpose while he did it. No matter how many times he explained what the difference was, Makoto only nodded along to confirm he heard him and gave an apologetic smile to confirm he didn’t get it. 

With that memory surfacing, Sousuke’s comfortable disposition is a noticeable contrast. Maybe he does know, Haruka thinks. Maybe he gets this like he claims to. It would be a first among anyone he’s ever met. 

The stove reads 8:22 PM and he grimaces slightly. This might be the worst bout he’s had in over a year. It doesn’t bode well, and he finally concedes after weeks of denying it as his mood has taken tumble after stumble, that he might need a medication adjustment. Again. He opens a sparse junk drawer and retrieves a bottle of pills. It doesn’t help that he skipped yesterday’s dose in his stupor. The anti-depressants have been good to him, but he can’t help feeling dejected knowing he isn’t in the clear just yet. One day he thinks he can get off of them, but today doesn’t look to be that day.

He glances over to Sousuke on the floor as the pills rattle in their container and again, he doesn’t indicate he’s noticing anything. That Haruka finds this odd is even greater testament to the fact that he’s never been around anyone who understands this, and it’s leaving him uneasy of all things. Makoto usually looks away, and makes Haruka feel like it’s a secret he’s keeping. Rin will go so far as to stare at him while he takes it, forcing him to sneak it when either of them visit the other. Treating it like it’s any old thing that happens on an average day is new, and not necessarily refreshing. 

Then again, maybe Yamazaki really didn’t hear it or notice at all. In either case, this is the oddest day he’s had in ages and it’s just weird enough to grant him some desperately needed reprieve.

He swallows his dose quickly and dry and turns to the pantry, grabbing a can of fish and setting it out before getting some rice started. He leans back on the counter once it’s cooking and watches whatever weird show Sousuke has settled on from a distance. Looks to be a documentary about snakes.

When it goes to commercial and that familiar burst of color lights up the room, Sousuke casually points the remote and changes the channel without a fuss and Haruka lets out the breath he subconsciously started holding. 

The rice punches over to warm twenty minutes later and Haruka heats up the fish in a pan before bringing it together in a bowl. It could probably use some flavor, but he counts his blessings that he even made anything at all. He sits down at his kotatsu with a glass of water and his admittedly paltry meal when Sousuke finally cranes his head over to look at him. “Thanks for offering.”

Haruka rolls his eyes. “I already know you don’t want any. Rin told me you hated mackerel years ago, and I don’t have any other food right now to offer.”

A shrug. “True,” he says through a yawn and a stretch before rolling over and sitting up to join him. “Do you talk?”

Haruka blinks up at the other, not quite following.

“Rin. Do you guys talk?”

“I guess. By nature of the fact that I speak to Makoto, and Rin insists on being in the room every time.”

“Did you know they were… _pre-engaged?”_ He says it clumsily, like he can barely fit the phrase together.

“I’m sure Makoto mentioned it. I don’t really remember... they talk a lot.”

Sousuke averts his sudden glare to the floor. “I got sick of calling him. So I stopped. And he never asked why or tried calling me. He didn’t tell me about the… whatever the fuck. Pre-engagement. And they talk so much to you that you don’t even remember what they say.”

Haruka eats a few bites of his meal and thinks about his response. “Rin is Rin.”

“Gee, thanks. Insightful.”

“He gets caught up in his life easily and if you’re not standing directly in front of him to remind him you exist, he has a tendency to forget,” Haruka elaborates. “Better?”

Sousuke hums. “I guess I should know that by now. Is that why Tachibana packed it up and went with him? Did he finally start to feel like a person Rin left behind?”

“Maybe. He doesn’t talk about that. I don’t ask.”

“The three of you are exceptionally weird.”

Haruka isn’t fazed. “I haven’t spoken to you in over half of a decade and yet you refuse to leave my apartment and have been watching my T.V. for three hours.”

“Point taken,” he mutters in response.

“He doesn’t leave people behind,” Haruka says, because it isn’t sitting quite right with him. “He has to make sacrifices to get where he wants to be. He’s selfish because he has to be.”

“Still, he could call.”

“He could,” he agrees, then drops it and finishes his meal. He doesn’t need Yamazaki’s insecurities over Rin on his shoulders, too.

“What’s with your furniture?” Sousuke asks to change the subject, looking around.

He frowns. “What’s wrong with it?”

“A couch and a kotatsu. No tables. It looks weird and it’s cramped.”

“I took Makoto’s couch when he left because he didn’t want to sell it. I don’t like tables. They collect clutter.”

Sousuke seems confused. “Does Tachibana really get a say in where his things go if he moves away and doesn’t take any of it with him?”

“He’ll come back one day, and he will want his couch. Anything else you’d like to criticize?”

“No, that covers it. Unless you have weird furniture in your room I can judge, too.” 

He ignores him. Now that Haruka’s thinking of Makoto, he remembers he needs to call him back before the end of the day. Makoto is already an hour ahead, so it’s late enough as it is. If he doesn’t respond, from experience he knows he will start to get probing messages from others, and he doesn’t need that right now. Not with a near stranger still sitting in his house, and not while he still isn’t out of the woods mentally-speaking. Not worrying Makoto and Rin more than he already does ranks above everything else, no matter how bad he feels. 

“I need to call Makoto,” Haruka declares after he cleans up in the kitchen.

“Okay?” Sousuke answers.

“So how long are you going to stay here?”

He shrugs. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Do whatever you want. You’ll starve eventually at this rate anyway, which isn't an unwelcome outcome for me.” He doesn’t wait for a response in favor of getting his cellphone, but thinks he hears Sousuke laugh. He’d like to get this phone call over with as quickly as possible. Luckily the battery is at twenty percent, so he has a reason to keep it short.

Makoto always calls him a maximum of twice and will send three text messages if Haruka misses a scheduled call. Sure enough, that’s what’s waiting for him.

1 Missed call  
_busy?_  
1 Missed call  
_we’re going to sleep now!  
maybe later today!_

Sousuke’s taken up residency on his couch when he re-emerges from his bedroom while selecting Makoto’s name and dialing. Maybe this has been a dream, because why. Honestly, why is he still here? Haruka’s awake and not curled up anymore, obviously a little better at least. Whatever weird obligation Yamazaki felt he had to stick around should be long abated. Rin probably sent him, he thinks darkly. Makoto is likely responsible. 

“Haru!” Makoto greets, as always. “Good to hear from you!”

“Sorry, I was busy,” he excuses without much inflection.

“I figured! Work?”

He tests his theory about their siccing Yamazaki on him. “Yamazaki is visiting.” Sousuke snaps his head up in alarm at the mention.

“...Yama… Sousuke? Huh?”

_“Sousuke?!”_

Haruka holds the phone away from his ear when Rin shrieks nearby. “Tell him he’s being too loud.” At least that’s disproven, as those reactions were genuinely annoying, yet authentic.

“Rin, shhh.”

 _“Why is he there?!”_ Rin yells anyway.

“No offense Haru, but that’s my question as well,” Makoto says with an intentionally disarming laugh.

Haruka huffs. “Because he can be.”

Sousuke just looks mortified, and Haruka is taking slight pleasure in all of this now. The subject of discussion jumps off the couch and stalks over to Haruka, plucking the phone from his hand. 

“I was just dropping something off!” he declares.

Haruka takes it back and turns away from him, pushing his hand away when he grabs for it again. He puts it on speakerphone as a compromise.

“Haru, I’m very confused,” Makoto admits.

“Does it really matter why he’s here?” he mutters in response. 

“...Ah, I guess not. Sorry Haru. Um, so, I actually wanted to-”

 _“You’re gonna fly out to the U.S. I’m buying you a ticket!”_ Rin says enthusiastically what can't be farther than a millimeter away from the receiver.

Haruka sucks on his now-clamped teeth to beat back the urge to cringe that hits him and looks up at Sousuke who definitely just heard that. His face is dark and unreadable, but Haruka thinks he sees it break briefly to something sad.

“...You’re on speakerphone, Makoto.”

There’s silence on the other end for an uncomfortable amount of time.

_“...Fuck. Sousuke, you want to come?”_

Sousuke nods to himself a few times and doesn’t say anything. Haruka doesn’t know what to say either.

_“Sou...?”_

“I’m good,” he answers, to his credit, completely neutrally. “You guys have fun.” He walks over to his shoes and starts to put them on.

“Haru...” Makoto starts with trepidation.

“My phone is going to die,” Haruka announces too loudly and unceremoniously before he simply hangs up. Rin is so dense sometimes it makes Haruka want to slam his forehead onto a flat surface to alleviate the second-hand embarrassment it causes him.

“It’s fine,” Sousuke says as he slams his heel into his shoe and stands straight. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I’m not going to go,” Haruka says, as if it helps.

“Why not? At least he still fucking remembers you exist. Go and have a good time, get out of this shit hole for a few days.” He unlocks the door and swings it open.

“Yamazaki.”

“What? This isn’t your’s or Tachibana’s problem. Don’t worry about it.”

“I-”

Sousuke turns to look at him from the doorway and his glare is frigid. Haruka takes an involuntary step back, and half expects a vending machine to catch him. “We don’t even know each other, Nanase. So please stop pretending to give a fuck.” He begins to walk out and away, and looks over his shoulder to add in an afterthought: “Hope you’re feeling better.”

Haruka stares after him for a moment, closes the door, and goes back to bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke makes a series of perhaps not-so isolated errors and Haru propositions him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good god I feel like I wrote this chapter 10 years ago compared to where I'm at now.

“You’re up early.”

Sousuke does nothing to keep the deep frown off of his face as he peers at the woman emerging from his bedroom over his laptop. “Yeah, I got plans.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not an idiot. I just wanted to know if you’ve seen… oh, there it is.” She reaches under the table for a small handbag. “Well, nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he answers dismissively without looking at her again. They didn’t trade names, so he thankfully has nothing to remember. The door closes behind her and he takes a sip of his coffee. 

He’s looking for a job, albeit half-assed. The phone calls he’s been ignoring and the voicemails he hasn’t been listening to from his father are piling up since he presumably found out on Monday about what happened, so there’s a small fire under his ass to at least make an attempt at a job search. That entire conversation will go over much more smoothly if he already has something else lined up.

His laptop suddenly shuts off and he curses under his breath. The stupid old thing overheats at random intervals, regardless of whether or not it’s under any real strain. He can’t have this while he’s trying to apply to jobs. It’ll drive him crazy. He slams it shut and downs his coffee and drums his fingertips on the tabletop in thought. Yeah, he’ll just have to go buy a new one. It’s a past-due upgrade anyway.

He doesn’t realize he’s taken forty minutes to get ready until he checks the clock on his nightstand after changing his shirt for the fifth time. It isn’t as if he has anywhere in particular to be, but he supposes that’s probably exactly why he’s putting so much effort into himself. He’s never _not_ had anything to do like this. He has _always_ been busy.

Sousuke decides to take his rarely-used car out to Shibuya for the purchase, since he doesn’t want to lug anything he decides to buy home on public transportation. He’s determined to kill as many hours as he can, clearly, because it takes half his life to get there. It’s the middle of the week in the late morning and the streets are still packed. He shouldn’t be grumbling at every person that runs into him, but he does anyway.

He mulls over his options at a rather upscale-seeming electronics store. Does he necessarily need all of the bells and whistles he’s considering? No. But he’s running his card through the reader for them all anyway. Maybe he will suddenly take up an interest in filmmaking and editing. Or gaming. Or fucking three-dimensional rendering. Literally any hobby past scrolling through hundreds of photos from halfway across the world with a mild film of self-loathing covering his skin as he does it. 

He stops in front of a display of cellphones on his way out. Fuck it, he needs a new one of those too. His doesn’t hold a charge for longer than ten hours, which won’t do if he’s waiting on calls from places he’s applied to.

He should buy some interview clothes. All of his shirts are old and permanently wrinkled at the waist and his ties are too mature for him. His shoes are all scuffed. His gym stuff is falling apart. He needs a haircut.

Sousuke’s out for a few hours and when he finally finds his car his arms are numb from carrying everything. He looks over it all piled into the passenger seat and the back area, finally seeing exactly what he’s done, and sighs a long drawn out _“fuck”._ Maybe losing his job is hitting him harder than he thought it would. Binge shopping is certainly new anyway.

He’s been eating lunch the last few days at a small park he discovered on the way to Nanase’s apartment when he visited the week prior. It’s virtually empty when he goes, so he’s able to eat and lie down on a bench and doze for a while afterwards. He should drop off all the shit he just bought first, but he’s hoping the pit in his stomach is from hunger and not from regret and needs to put that to the test as soon as he can to reassure himself. Spending yet more money, he picks up take-out and drives himself to the park.

He’s full and halfway to unconsciousness and no less sick over how his day has panned out when he feels someone standing over him and it’s _really_ weird that the person isn’t saying anything. Of course with that feeling it can only be one person in particular.

“Can I help you?” he asks Haruka, cracking an eye open.

He’s nearly bent over him at a ninety degree angle, eyes curious. “Why are you eating lunch here all the time now?”

Sousuke frowns. “Why are you stalking me?”

He shrugs. “I run through here every day. I’ve just seen you in the distance.”

Is that weirder than stalking or not? He’ll have to think on it. “I noticed it was empty when I first found your place. So I came back to eat. I like to have lunch outside.”

It seems good enough for Haruka, who hums noncommittally and starts to jog away. 

“Where are you going?” Sousuke asks, sitting up.

“The pool.”

“Of course you are.”

Haruka stops and turns back with a small cock of his head, adjusting his small duffel bag. “Want to come?”

Sousuke’s sure he’s looking at Haruka like he has two heads. He’s starting to think this guy is more off-kilter than he originally assumed. “Wh-Huh? No.”

“Okay.” Haruka looks at the ground a moment before looking back up. “I do care. About all of you. Even though I don’t know you. You’re Rin’s friend, so I care.”

It takes him a moment to even remember what the other is referencing. “Oh, that?”

Haruka nods.

He feels the back of his neck heating up. He was a dick about that too, wasn’t he? He snapped at Nanase when he was already feeling low; that it’s clearly been on his mind and not Sousuke’s in the days since makes him feel even worse. 

“Well I’m leaving now,” Haruka announces.

Sousuke groans and stands. “Stop guilt tripping me.” Haruka furrows his eyebrows and parts his mouth to protest but Sousuke keeps speaking. “I need to stop by my place and get a suit.”

“...That’ll take too long,” he responds in mild bewilderment. Clearly, the offer was made in jest, Sousuke now realizes. Well too fucking bad.

“I have my car today. I’ll just meet you there.”

Haruka bends his knee a few times in a sort of swinging motion before responding. “I’ll come with you.” 

Sousuke’s an observant person, he likes to think so anyway, and he knows _exactly_ what that motion looks like. He thinks of all the crap he bought piled in the seat... but it would probably be even weirder to tell him no, right? Not to mention irresponsible if there’s some sort of injury now involved.

“Fine.”

-

“...Go shopping?”

“Shut up.”

Haruka climbs in once the seat is cleared and Sousuke gets in on the other side. He starts it and drives away before Haruka speaks again. “Shouldn’t you be saving your money?”

“Shut _up,_ ” he groans. “Why did I agree to this?”

Haruka shrugs. “I haven’t figured it out either. I was just kidding when I asked.”

“You’re so fucking annoying.”

“So are you.” 

“I’m pulling over and kicking you out.”

“Okay.”

Sousuke grinds his teeth and grips the wheel tighter. Out of the corner of his eye he thinks he sees that asshole smile a little bit, and it makes it even worse. What, exactly, is made worse, he isn’t sure. He definitely didn’t feel this annoyed last week. It doesn’t even feel completely like annoyance but he doesn’t know what else to call it, either. His place isn’t far, so he doesn’t have a lot of time to mull it over.

“Help me bring this shit in if you’re going to insist on being here,” Sousuke mumbles as they park.

Haruka slouches down and puts his _feet on the dashboard._ “No.”

“Are you serious?” Sousuke deadpans both in reference to his answer and his current position.

“Yes.”

He slams the door and opens the back and starts to gather his things without saying anything else, knowing Nanase is just finding all of this to be _hilarious_ for some reason and not wanting to give him anymore fodder. Just inside his apartment he drops down his spoils and roots around in his bedroom for a long buried suit and pair of goggles to stuff into a gym bag along with a towel. 

He only stops to ask himself just what in the fuck he is doing as he’s leaving again. He doesn’t race at all. Nanase doesn’t know that. Too late now considering he’s waiting in the car. He calls himself an idiot for what has to be the five-hundredth time that day and carries on, thinking on his walk back to the car how best to admit to this.

“I can’t race,” he blurts out stupidly as he restarts the car. “Because of. You know.” It sounded much better in his head.

Haruka blinks over at him. “I didn’t say we were racing.”

“...Oh.”

“I just want to swim.”

It’s the first thing Haruka’s said that doesn’t sound like it was intended to fuck with him. Sousuke wonders what he did to convince the other to speak with sincerity for once. Or maybe Sousuke has seen one too many shrinks in his life and he needs to stop analyzing Nanase like some sort of lab report. Still, he pushes his luck and goes for something personal. “So what’s up with your knee?”

“Nothing, really. It just gets sore sometimes.” He’s not even a little bit surprised that Sousuke noticed. Interesting.

“Have you-”

“Yes, _Makoto,_ ” he mumbles. “I have seen at least three doctors.”

Sousuke rolls his eyes. “Well you can’t blame me of all people for asking.”

“It’s fine. I just can’t train at a competitive level. But I don’t anyway.”

“Does Rin know all that?”

Silence answers him and Haruka opts to look out the window.

“Well does he think you’re coming back or something?” Sousuke continues. 

“He wishes I would but he knows I won’t. The knee happened after I quit so he doesn’t need to know. Besides, it’s not an injury.”

Sousuke hasn’t had a whole lot of sympathy for Rin over the last few years, but a dull sense of it hits him then. With his shoulder and whatever happened to Nanase’s career… the two people Rin wanted to swim with on the world stage more than anything are currently stuck in a small cheap car together trading vague one-off lines about their lives in stasis while driving to a public pool so they can float around for an hour. He tries to stave off thoughts referring to wasted potential, but he has to admit it applies to them in this context if only a little.

“You should probably tell him anyway, just from personal experience.”

“Makoto will eventually. He’s terrible at keeping secrets.”

Sousuke snorts. “That aren’t his own, apparently.”

Haruka side-eyes him at that briefly before looking outwards again. “Makoto is-”

“Makoto. Yeah, got it.” He bites his lip when a palpably awkward silence follows his interruption. 

Haruka directs him the rest of the way to the athletic center with little points and one-worded commands. He seems closed off again. Maybe something they discussed was a more sensitive topic than Sousuke thought it was. 

“Right.”

Sousuke Yamazaki offend Haruka Nanase unintentionally? Shocking. How novel. He’s nearly lost count of how many times he’s done it since he hung up on him before he knew who it was, not to mention how often he’d done it before then when he didn’t give a shit about counting his offenses. 

“ _Right,_ Yamazaki.”

But how the fuck was he supposed to know? Really, how could he have possibly known what would piss Nanase off? Maybe Nanase should use his fucking words if Sousuke says something-

_“Yamazaki,”_ Haruka cuts in sternly

_“What?”_

“I said go right a block ago.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“I _did._ ”

“Speak up next time,” Sousuke snaps. “You fucking mumble.”

Haruka clicks his tongue and Sousuke sees him shake his head a few times before looking away. “You find it then.”

Sousuke pulls off into a small parking lot in front of a convenience store and throws the car into park. “What _exactly_ is your problem?”

Haruka gapes at him. “ _My_ problem,” he mimics in disbelief.

Sousuke sees his knuckles are tight over the wheel again and slowly the pieces fall into place. He is not himself at all lately. Partying like he’s nineteen again, fretting too much over his appearance, the obsessive shopping, the irritability, the distraction… it’s all coming to a head and his sense of hindsight is not being kind to him as he looks at how all this is connected. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Haruka huffs, throwing the door open. Sousuke doesn’t stop him; he’s too focused on his hands. He makes it about ten steps from the car before Sousuke sees his shoulders heave and his steps stop before he turns back around and returns. “Yamazaki,” he says, half fed-up and half with inquiry, hanging on the door slightly. 

“Forget it,” Sousuke mutters. “Can you just walk? Is it close?”

Haruka sighs irritably. “Just drive me. I could’ve been done by now for how long this is taking.”

“I can’t.”

Haruka gets back in the car and latches his seatbelt. “Turn back out right and go left at the next light.”

“I _can’t,_ Nanase.” 

“Just do it. You have nothing better to do.”

He doesn’t. He was planning on sitting in this parking lot until his nerves let him out of their vice grip, then going home and taking a scalding hot shower to further loosen them up. God he fucked up. He fucked up really bad. He has no future. He threw it away with an outburst. Like a child. He’s been the poster child for unchecked compulsion since he walked out of that place and he mistook it for _happiness._ He should’ve noticed it for what it was. He’s supposed to know better by now, dammit. 

_“Sousuke!”_

He sucks in a sharp, deep breath and lets go of the wheel. Haruka’s face is downturned in concern when he looks over at him. “Sorry, I just realized I might’ve destroyed the only thing I had going for me.”

“A job that made you miserable.” A statement. That know-it-all little shit.

He fumes. “What the fuck do you know, Nanase? _It’s all I had._ ”

“You’ll be fine,” Haruka says impatiently. “We’ll swim and you’ll see.”

There’s distress in his voice that he knows he can’t hide. “How does that help me? How does that change _anything?_ ”

“Maybe it won’t but… it’s… helped me in the past,” he responds calmly, with noticeably reddened ears but an unwavering tone. 

“Oh,” Sousuke breathes more than says because his stomach has twisted into a spectacular knot. Whether it’s because Nanase was actually _listening_ to him last week or because he’s seeing right through Sousuke’s near temper tantrum for what it is, he’s not sure.

“You’ll be okay,” the other reiterates.

It’s just simple enough in the face of an endless spiral of complicated thoughts to get him to drive.

-

The athletic center looks a little run down to him, but considering they’re the only people here this afternoon he gets why Nanase chose it.

Haruka is just as perfect in the water as he’s always been. In a different time Sousuke might find it infuriating, but here he finds it comforting. Nanase stalled out in the professional world, but he didn’t lose everything. He still moves with purpose, still seems like he caresses the surface of the water more than cuts through it. It’s a lesson in resilience Sousuke should pay some respect.

Sousuke watches him glide and move as if the laws of water resistance don’t apply to him. He’s immersed in more than just water somehow and his face is serene; none of the hard lines or shadows breaking up his countenance like they were when Sousuke found him half a zombie a few days ago. He knew what that was as soon as Nanase called after him. It hurt to hear it, because he isn’t far enough removed from the same thing yet to forget that hollow tone. After today, he isn’t sure it’s as in the past as he thought it was.

So he couldn’t just leave him alone. Despite how the night ended, he doesn’t think he made a mistake by not-so-subtly setting down some temporary roots in Nanase’s living room. He only hopes he made a difference, even if it was small. Even if they’re not close and Nanase just found it annoying. At least then he felt something. 

Sousuke hates feeling like the only person in the world. Like every emotion he has is far, far away. Along with everyone else. 

Watching Nanase _willfully_ make himself the only person in the world right now is something new. Maybe that’s the difference between loneliness and solitude. The amount of control you have over it.

Haruka surfaces after disappearing for an impressive amount of time, just enough to clear his nose and catch his breath. He watches Sousuke curiously, who’s only dangling his feet over the edge. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to swim, he’s just apprehensive that it’s not going to make him feel any better. One day, he’s afraid it won’t do anything but make him feel worse.

“It’s weird that you’re staring at me,” Haruka finally says. “Get in or go away.”

“I’m not staring.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Overthinking things.”

There’s a small burst of bubbles on the surface when Haruka ducks below it to push out an amused puff of air. Sousuke doesn’t know what he’s thinking but whatever it is, he’s probably right. 

Sousuke shrugs and finally walks over to a block, pulling his goggles down and bending forward to grab the edge. He takes in a slow breath and lets the lane in front of him take up his line of sight completely. The water rolls under the dividers, unbroken and peaceful, lackadaisical even. Sousuke wants to be the one to break it apart, coax it to life, set it into motion.

He soars. For a moment, he flies. He isn’t anchored to the ground and it’s _this_ feeling, not the swimming anymore necessarily, that keeps putting him back on the block long after he should’ve given it up. Long after he said he was going to.

He’s finding he has a bit in common with Nanase after all. But here in the pool, Sousuke isn’t like him in the slightest. He crashes into the water and fights his way through it. Forces it to react. Feels exhilarated as it explodes outwards with every precision strike of his body. He shouldn’t swim butterfly and he usually doesn’t, but he needs to this one time. Right now he needs this connection and the knowledge that he can put life into something and be given it back in return.

He finishes his one-hundred meters and doesn’t try and stunt his uneven breathing at the end. Nanase has to know he’s out of shape for the pool, and Sousuke doesn’t care if he finds it pathetic. But he doesn’t seem to. It’s Haruka’s turn to stare at him in interest. 

“You’re still powerful,” Haruka states. 

He doesn’t know how to respond to that. It implies Nanase found him powerful in the past, which feels a little bit like salt on a wound for some reason, but also because he _isn’t_ powerful. He has burst, he definitely knows how to explode. But he doesn’t have the endurance Nanase has. The steady consistency. That, to Sousuke, is power. Who thinks of a firework in the face of constellations that have been around for thousands of years? When Sousuke tried to endure for Rin, he just ended up hurting himself. 

He shrugs and heads to the shower to rinse off without responding, having found the tranquility he needed out of his one lap as Nanase promised him he would. Not that he’d admit it. Once dressed, he finds a bench and dozes for another half hour until Haruka nudges a knee into his to get his attention, standing dressed and ready to leave as well as a few other people start to file in. 

Conversation feels forced now that they’ve swam to lull their minds to peace in their own ways. Sousuke savors the silence on the drive back to Haruka’s apartment, and the other relaxes into the seat and lets his eyes close. 

Sousuke thinks Haruka still seems a little down overall, but he’s out and swimming and they had a good time despite everything in the car before, so he must’ve been able to get himself out of the worst of it. Sousuke thought about dropping by once or twice to check on him, but thought it would’ve been too much. Still, he worried, and he has a few text drafts saved on his old phone to Rin asking for Nanase’s phone number in roundabout ways that he ultimately decided not to send.

Nanase isn’t so bad. Sousuke thinks today might not be the end of whatever this is. Or maybe he just hopes it isn’t. Nanase’s response to his unspoken thoughts, however, he doesn’t see coming.

Haruka lingers in his car once Sousuke pulls up to his street. He twists the strap of his small duffel bag over a few times before slowly unzipping the front pocket and pausing his movements again. Finally, he hands a folded piece of paper to Sousuke without looking up at him. Sousuke takes it and stares bewildered at the print. A flight confirmation in his name for a trip to the U.S., bought and paid for. Is this really why he stopped him in the park earlier, but he just lost the nerve?

“You don’t have to go,” Haruka mumbles. “But I thought it might be really… tiresome to be the only one. Rin already bought my ticket, so I guess I never had a choice.”

“I really don’t…” he trails. “Nanase, me and Rin-”

“It isn’t for Rin,” Haruka says quickly. Then he’s scrambling to get out of the car like the seat is too hot and he slams the door hard enough to make Sousuke jump.

He doesn’t want to see Rin, not with how his life is going currently. He doesn’t want to leave Nanase alone either, when he clearly put himself through a lot, not to mention _spent_ a lot, to even offer this. 

So what now?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru eats lemon cake and Sousuke gets physical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick update turnaround this time because I'm 12 years old and lack the patience to space chapters appropriately when I want to get certain plot points rolling AND this chapter is a bridge to other things so there's no point in delaying it.

It’s 1:00 AM and his bag should’ve been packed about four hours ago, when he should’ve gone to sleep, but it’s currently sitting empty in the middle of his bedroom.

Haruka stares up at the ceiling from his bed and tries to ignore it a little while longer. He so desperately does not want to go on this trip. If he calls and tells Rin he isn’t going though, it’ll make more problems for him. Prying questions. Rin with his heart in the right place going on one of his pushy tirades. Makoto going back to treating him like glass. He’s fought too hard to get this far only for them to go revert to that because of a rough spot.

The timing for them to spring this on him is just exceptionally bad, is all. Haruka is struggling with a bit of existentialism over a foundation that needs re-centering. It isn’t dire, but jetsetting across the world to an unknown place to be with people who don’t really _get it_ has historically not turned out well for him. He needs planning. Warning. Not a measly week to prepare for it. The appointment he made with his psychiatrist to re-assess his prescription won’t be until after he gets back, either. The way it stands, it's all a recipe for disaster.

That Makoto went along with it makes him more upset. He should know better. Of all people, Makoto _should know_ that Haruka can’t be successfully forced into things like this, whether he feels like he can take on the world or not. They all learned that, they should all know, but Makoto above all should remember it. Makoto had to live with him before Haruka found his way again, after all.

_“You need help, Haru.”_

Haruka hasn’t forgotten that nearly silent act of surrender. So how could Makoto? The gnawing feeling that’s been in the back of his mind ever since Makoto left to be with Rin gets stronger every time something like this happens. They are not _Makoto and Haru_ anymore, that much has long been established. But the distance separating them is more than just physical now. It feels like the expansion of the universe sometimes. Inevitable and unstoppable. 

This is the part in this same tired argument he has with himself every so often that he recognizes as the turning point. Haruka doesn’t want to grow apart from Makoto. Or Rin, but he and Rin are apart so often it isn’t the same. He especially doesn’t ever want to have to say _“It’s been a while, Tachibana”_. Have to make pleasant small talk with him. It makes his stomach twist into knots to even think about and all of his spiraling thinking finally slows.

With something sour now sitting on his tongue he gets up and starts to pack. He’d rather have an occasional misunderstanding than no relationship at all. Haruka has an old bad habit of unfairly wanting Makoto to be some sort of omnipotent panacea to his issues. Something he picked up when he didn’t know who else to turn to or who else to blame. Maybe Makoto didn't handle everything with grace or understanding, but he was integral to Haruka's first steps regardless and getting angry at him for not being perfect is uncalled for. 

Sometimes he has to stop and breathe and remind himself that Makoto is his own person, too. Makoto isn’t obligated to know Haruka inside and out and getting upset with him for not magically detecting that he isn’t at his best through a few vague phone conversations is bad thinking. Makoto trusts that Haruka is okay when he says he is, and that’s what he’s been telling him. 

Isn’t that what counts?

His bag is neatly arranged in twenty minutes, old muscle memory directing his movements from when he was packing for a different country every few days at the height of his swimming career. He’ll only be there four days. Maybe he can talk to Makoto. _Really_ talk to him, confess to some white lies, air some grievances, and try and bridge them back together again if only slightly. Haruka has to remember that his brand of evasion contributes to their growing apart too. He’s just as at fault. Some days he’s probably mostly at fault. 

“Maybe,” he says out loud, not convinced by his own voice. 

In any case, he’s packed and his travel documents are out and waiting. He tries not to think too much about Sousuke. He won’t go. It would be nice not to have to do this alone, but if someone he barely knew did the same thing for him he probably wouldn’t go either. He can’t blame him for staying behind. He left the car in such a hurry he didn’t even give Yamazaki his phone number to say either way.

As he sets his alarm for 7:00 AM to be at the airport by 9:00 AM, despite the relatively positive thinking he’s managed to get himself to, there's still an emptiness in his gut that he can't seem to shake.

-

Haruka pays the cab driver the following morning at the drop-offs area of Haneda International and heads inside with heavy feet. He shouldn’t be disappointed Yamazaki isn’t there. He already convinced himself it was fine the night before. He shouldn’t be dreading this. He already convinced himself this would be good for his relationships with Makoto and Rin. Maybe if he repeats it enough he can convince himself of it _again._

He gets through check-in and security and stops by a café to get a small snack. He forgot to eat before he left, and this is no short flight. From experience he knows there’s a large chance he will not have an appetite for anything they serve in the air. He hopes Rin has the sense to get him something to eat for when he lands. In the past he’s been good about it, but he's landing after midnight so it may not be on Rin's mind to accommodate him. 

It’s a lemon cake with an acceptable frosting. He could probably bake better, he thinks. But it’s good enough. He also buys a bottle of water to drink at the gate and makes his way in that direction. He has another hour to kill. There’s a uniformed sports team spread out among the seats; they look like runners. Waiting for a plane while on Japan’s swimming team he remembers to be raw torture. He already didn’t really want to talk to most of his teammates, but all you can really do while you wait in a designated area with a group you sort of know is talk. He doesn’t miss that either.

Haruka digs out his sweatshirt from his bag and pulls it over himself then his bent knees on a seat as far away from everyone else as he can get. Airports and planes are so unnecessarily cold. An hour of sleep is appealing considering how much sleep he’s about to miss out on. He can't sleep on planes, either. His eyelids are heavy already just thinking about it, and the sweatshirt warming up gradually around him seals the deal.

“Yo, Haru.”

He pulls his gaze from the ocean and gives Rin his attention.

“What do you think is out there?”

Typical obtuse Rin question. “Water,” he answers.

“Beyond that.”

“Marine life. Eventually land.”

“ _Beyond_ that.”

He frowns and looks back out over the water. “I don’t know what you’re asking me.”

From his other side now, Rin speaks again. “Why did you stop looking? You could’ve found out.”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“To swim?”

“To find out.”

Rin hums in disapproval. “You're just a coward.”

His heart catches in his chest and he looks down at his feet. The modern carpet is a dusty beige on its death bed and he’s in the old apartment him and Makoto shared for a spell.

“Look what happened,” Rin observes in a voice one might scold a child with from the couch, one leg over the other while his arms fan out along the back. “Even Makoto didn’t want to put up with _this._ He ditched you.”

“You know I don’t believe that,” he mumbles from the floor.

“You sure you don’t?” The television statics to life behind him and the sickening sunny colors project onto the wall above Rin’s head.

“Visit beautiful Sydney Australia, Haru,” Rin croons with a cruel edge. “There’s a nursery rhyme about you in English, you know.”

“Shut up, Rin.”

“Haruka Nanase sat on a wall,” he sings, “Haruka Nanase had a _great fall._ ”

_“Rin!”_

Rin’s eyes narrow down at him in disdain. “All the king’s horses and all the king’s men…” 

He rushes to his feet to physically stop Rin from mocking him any longer, but he’s gone in a blink.

His spine feels encased in ice and a hard shudder rocks him to his core when his shoulders are grabbed roughly from behind and Makoto’s low voice flows like a viscous molasses between his ears. “...Couldn’t put Haru together again.”

_Ping_

Haruka wishes he could say when the overhead speaker pings on and wakes him up to announce boarding, he stands when his group is called and boards the plane and that’s that. Instead he hears the ping and feels his mouth go dry while his throat closes up and the insecurity he’s been trying desperately to keep down finally takes him over, his resolve undone by a nightmare he thought was dead and buried recurring out of left field. It’s not the contents of it, it’s that it _came back._ It always precludes something worse. Always. His boarding group bunches at the front and Haruka stares longingly back down the terminal. 

He can still leave. He can tell them he got sick. He feels sick now. It wouldn’t be a lie. That nightmare is a giant red flag and if he's doing this alone he won't make it to the end of this trip without shutting down. Makoto will worry and Rin will exacerbate and he'll have no recourse until he's safely back in Japan.

Haruka picks up his bag and nearly runs back towards security to go home. He’s lying to himself if he thinks this trip won’t turn to disaster the second he steps on that plane. 

Something snags the hood on his sweatshirt and yanks him back. He stumbles, one heel catching on the ground when he tries to steady himself, and he’s shoved back to a standing position all within a few seconds. “Oh no. There is no _fucking_ way I agonized over this all night and raced over here only to catch you chickening out.”

He whirls around but Sousuke still has his hood in a vicegrip, so the fabric pulls halfway across his face. “Let me go.”

“We’re boarding. I already checked my suitcase and I'm too lazy to try and get it back.”

“I’m not going,” Haruka protests with a raised voice.

“You cannot leave me with them in a foreign country they are _disgusting,_ ” Sousuke pleads. “It’s four days, Nanase. That’s all. I'll make an ass of myself the entire time if it'll help just _please_ come with me because I'm not turning back now.”

_“Last call for flight 4297 service to Los Angeles, California.”_

_“Nanase,”_ Sousuke continues with urgency. “I showed up, right? And I’m a mess. If I can do it, you’re fucking golden.”

Haruka bites his lip and looks over his shoulder, then back to Sousuke. Yamazaki’s here, that’s more than he was thinking would happen an hour ago. “...I don’t know.”

“I _might_ fight Rin so Tachibana’s gonna need someone to hold me back while he holds him. Be a team player, Nanase.”

Haruka huffs in amusement into the fabric of his hood despite his mood. He thinks there might be a half-truth to this. As awful as nightmare-Rin is to him, Haruka still likes the real Rin and doesn’t need Yamazaki to murder him in front of his _pre-fiancé._ Maybe it’s stupid for him to get this worked up over a dream that stopped haunting him months ago. It’s just a fluke. It’s just because he’s been under some stress lately. That’s what Rin would tell him, that’s what he tells himself now. “All right,” he concedes wearily. “I'm not okay right now, though. I don't know how this is going to go.”

Sousuke's sarcastic demeanor drops away and he looks at Haruka so earnestly that he has to look away himself. "But you made it to the gate, all the way from your bed. On your own. So something must be telling you that you can do this, right?"

Haruka nods once. He's right.

"So keep me company? Honestly, I could use it."

He nods again and relaxes his shoulders that have since drawn up.

Sousuke grins, though Haruka sees past his cockiness to his overwhelming relief too, and starts to walk quickly without releasing his hoodie.

_“Hey-”_

“Nope. Don’t trust you not to escape out a different door, so to speak,” he mocks.

He holds onto Haruka all the way up until they’re past the ticket check, and finally releases him once he knows there’s no running back. They manage to find two seats next to each other on the right side from what’s left somehow. For a three-column airplane that they were the last ones onto and stuck with picking the leftover seats rather than securing their assigned, it’s nothing short of miraculous actually.

Sousuke grabs Haruka’s bag from him and shoves it into the overhead compartment after making sure he doesn’t need anything from it. Haruka can barely shake his head no from embarrassment at such a ridiculous gesture, but Sousuke doesn’t seem to notice he did anything out of place.

“Are you taking the window?” he asks with a slight pout as he snaps the bin shut.

“Yes,” Haruka answers plainly, shuffling over to it. “I get sick.”

Sousuke groans, plopping down next to him and kicking his own small carry-on under the seat in front of him. “You didn’t tell me that.”

He shrugs. “The window helps.”

“If you puke on me I will throw you out of the emergency exit.”

“There are bags, Yamazaki,” Haruka says with feigned boredom, fishing one out from the seat pocket to hold up.

Sousuke actually _squeaks_ and goes pale and Haruka is entertained with his reaction. “I won’t throw up,” he clarifies. “I meant I get anxious at takeoff and landing and the window helps keep me distracted.”

“Oh.” A beat of silence. “...You ass.”

At the very least, he finds Yamazaki amusing. If this entire thing blows up in his face he feels strangely confident he can depend on him to have something sarcastic to say about it that will make it a little better. And if it really blows up in his face and he finds himself in bed for two days again, maybe Yamazaki would consider a dry running commentary from his living room floor.

Another twenty minutes go by and the captain informs the cabin that take-off is soon, and just as quickly they’re pulling away from the terminal and queuing up on the runway, locking him into the next eleven long hours. When Haruka traveled often to swim he started off tallying the number of hours he spent in airports and on planes and stopped only a few flights in. It got to be too depressing too quickly. 

“Been there before?” Sousuke asks.

Haruka peers over to the other person in their row and sees they are definitively American, so he must be speaking to him.

“Once.”

“Is it any good?”

No one’s ever asked him that way before. It’s sort of an odd way to ask an opinion about an entirely different continent. “It’s okay.”

“Wow, illuminating. Do you know how to elaborate on anything without prompting?”

The plane jolts forward and starts to pick up speed. Haruka subconsciously grabs the armrests tightly and turns his head to look out the window over the tarmac.

“You know, most people would be more unnerved by looking out the window.”

Haruka runs his tongue over the edge of his bottom teeth in annoyance. “Is this you trying to help or something?”

“I’m just saying. You’re more likely to be mauled by a dog than crash in an airplane.”

The speed picks up fast enough to lightly press Haruka into his seat and any other biting thing he had to say gets lost in the sudden wave of dizziness. They lift off the ground and his stomach drops. He watches the ground pull away to help center himself. Something about that part is peaceful, at least. The people disappear, then the individual trees, the cars, and finally it’s just the tops of the buildings disappearing under the clouds.

Haruka lets out a shaky breath and feels the heat pooled under his cheeks start to break up once the captain announces they’re at altitude. He blinks a few times and remembers Sousuke is there, having forgotten entirely until he sees the other awkwardly hunched over with his hands in his lap since Haruka and the American are monopolizing both of his armrests. He clears his throat and moves his arm off.

“That doesn’t help,” Haruka finally says in response probably long after Sousuke forgot what he even said. 

“Can I have the window now?” he asks dismissively.

“No.”

Sousuke chuckles and leans forward to grab at his bag. He fishes out a book. “Also shut up,” he says.

Haruka tries not to laugh. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were _thinking_ it. I know how to read. I can’t listen to music or sleep for ten hours.”

“Rin’s teasing really did a number on your confidence,” Haruka remarks in retaliation for Yamazaki’s piss-poor handling of his flight anxiety.

He thinks Sousuke does his best attempt to breathe fire through his nose for how scathingly he pushes air out through it. “Well what do _you_ do? You don’t have anything to do.”

“I look out the window.”

“For _ten hours._ ”

“More like eleven, really,” he corrects. “Sometimes I watch the in-flight movie.”

“Oh my god,” Sousuke mutters in defeat without offering any other snark. He claims his armrest, pulls down his tray, and cracks open his book. It looks like non-fiction. Haruka rolls his eyes at it; at least Makoto and Yamazaki have one thing in common if nothing else. He looks back out the window and lets his mind drift.

Flying east like this is very interesting. It’s the closest to going back in time humans can do, he figures. No one has ever seemed to find it as mystical as he does, after all it’s just a change of time zones, but there’s something surreal to Haruka about landing in a country before you’ve even left your own, technically speaking. Soon it will be pitch black and he won’t be able to see the clouds, but then the galaxy stretches above him endlessly, and gives him a small glimpse into the idea of what the word _endless_ really means. 

This is the one thing about the frequent travel he didn’t hate. In fact it was his only pocket of tranquility while everything else around him fell apart. Now that he’s nearly on the other side of all that, he offers a silent prayer of gratitude to the heavens for keeping him grounded during that arduously long two years of professional swimming. Two years against the eternity of the sky is inconsequential.

Haruka’s pulled from his twilight not forty minutes into it with a sharp jab of Sousuke’s elbow into his arm when the other slumps to the side, out cold if the nearly imperceptible movement of his chest is anything to go by. Sousuke’s book tumbles onto the tray and the American casts Haruka a sympathetic glance at the sudden rough invasion of his space. Haruka nearly shoves him back to center, but stops and looks back out into the sky instead. He reasons there’s _no way_ Sousuke can sleep at that heinous-looking angle for long, so he’ll allow it. 

Begrudgingly related, sometimes Haruka is _very, very wrong_ about some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iskabee @ tumblr


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke has a horrific flashback and Makoto does what Makoto does best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where you decide if you can put up with my abhorrent sense of humor or not. I’m sorry, the banter only gets worse from here.

The first thing Sousuke registers is that his fucking neck must be broken. He groans and opens his eyes, carefully pulling himself straight and recoiling when a bolt of pain rockets through his head and shoulders. It’s night and the fasten seatbelt light is flashing, so they must be close.

“You can’t sleep for ten hours, huh?” Haruka grumbles, rubbing his upper arm.

“I- ah, _ohmyfuck my neck_ why didn’t you _wake me up?_ ” Sousuke whines. The American looks amused, body language telling enough of the story to forgo the need to understand the language.

“I _tried._ Then I stopped because I realized if you slept, I didn’t have to listen to you say stupid things,” Haruka says.

He rubs at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “Goddammit Nanase you could’ve got me a pillow at least.”

He shrugs. “You looked peaceful. I didn’t want you sleeping on me more than you were anyway.”

Sousuke glares at him and clears his parched throat.

“Here, I didn’t drink it,” Haruka continues, handing him a tepid water bottle from his hoodie pouch.

Sousuke takes it because he’s definitely dying this time and can’t be picky about the temperature or dubious origin. He has a pulse behind his eyes somehow and no atom from his head to his trapezoids is not currently rebelling against him in pain. “Are you immortal or something? How are you functioning for so long without, oh I don’t know, all of life’s basic necessities?”

“I’ll sleep at the hotel,” Haruka answers plainly. “And Rin hopefully found me food.”

“I’m currently too fucked up to parse the meaning of that, so whatever you say Nanase. But if you come for my blood in the night I’m not going to be surprised.”

Haruka wrinkles his nose from over the collar of his sweatshirt at him.

The cabin suddenly lurches and then starts to shake when the plane hits obvious turbulence and Sousuke spills out some of the water he was at least attempting to drink. “Shit! _Really?_ ” he curses, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand and grabbing the front of his shirt to shake it out.

Turbulence-makes-me-anxious-Nanase fucking _snickers._ The captain’s voice then carries over the intercom to warn of it as well as the usual rockiness that comes from descent. Haruka’s amusement over his misfortune is short lived when the rumble doesn’t let up, and he not so politely pushes Sousuke’s hand out of the way to steal his armrest again and glue his gaze to the pitch black window.

Honestly his mistreatment of the ascent was because he just didn’t know how to make it better and metaphorically reached for whatever he could grab to try and help. Perhaps keeping the word _crash_ out of his next attempt is a good start.

“Where are we staying?” he tries.

“No idea,” Haruka clips.

“We’re not sharing a room with them, are we?”

That gets his attention. He looks to Sousuke with fear in his eyes. “I hope not.” Sousuke’s glad they’re on the same page. “The way these American hotels work, then I’d have to share a bed with _you._ ” Or not.

“Asshole,” he shoots without much bite.

Haruka looks unimpressed with the flimsy insult. “You spent the entire flight giving me a bruise in your sleep. I’ve had enough of that from you for the rest of my life.”

“Oh give me a break there isn’t a lot of room.” He notices Nanase’s knuckles aren’t as bone white as they were. Small victories.

“Makoto never did that. Makoto is just as tall as you, probably taller now.” Haruka may as well have stuck his tongue out at him as he finishes saying it.

He flares, irritability threshold at an all time low. With his headache, his stiff neck, his damp fucking shirt, the tiny stupid seat and his increasingly numb ass, he has no patience for Nanase’s brand of immaturity so long as they’re still on this godforsaken airplane. “Do you want to fucking bet I’m bigger than Tachibana?! Because I’ll _prove it!_ ”

The American looks over curiously at the outburst and Haruka gapes at him in shock for a second before a laugh spills out from deep in his chest. He instantly muffles himself with his sleeve but Sousuke sees his shoulders shaking slightly as he turns away from him. Realization dawns and mortification slowly, painfully, overtakes him.

“Oh. _Oh!_ You know what?! You’re an immature prick! You know what I meant!” Some of the other Japanese-speaking seated people on the plane are casting him looks of muted horror.

He sees Haruka shaking his head as another laugh escapes his sleeve and for how pissed off he is at this exchange, he knows in the back of his mind it’s better to take the hit to his ego rather than to watch Nanase go deathly pale and shaky again.

By the time Haruka recovers the plane is lolling down without any additional extraneous movement, and aside from a small flinch from the bump when the landing gear connects with the ground, he stays calm. Well fine. If that’s what it takes, Sousuke supposes. He blames Rin for his kneejerk need to try and “fix it” when people look even remotely upset. He’s good at it, at least with Rin he is. Slowly he’s sure can learn Nanase too, even if it takes an unintentionally awful dick joke…. okay, maybe he sort of hopes Nanase finds other things funny, too, for the sake of his pride.

Once Rin muttered something about Nanase being incapable of laughing at _anything,_ and how frustrating it was. He’s suddenly sort of proud of himself. Eat shit, Rin. Too bad he can’t rub it in his face by nature of how it came about.

Haruka straightens in his seat and re-arranges his hair where it’s fallen disheveled as the plane pulls up to the terminal at Los Angeles International. “Makoto is picking us up. Rin said he couldn’t,” he says, voice level again.

“Of course he can’t.”

“He has team obligations.”

“It is literally one in the morning here. He whines without his beauty sleep so he sent Makoto out to fetch us.”

“Stop being petulant.”

Sousuke huffs and drops it. Maybe he should keep his apparently one-sided issue with Rin to himself.

They finally get to disembark and they both wave politely to the American who had to suffer them both. He sort of speed walks down the terminal, realizing as soon as he stands that he has to piss and promptly. Customs doesn’t take long, since there aren’t many flights arriving at this odd hour. 

“Do you know enough English to answer this guy’s questions?” Sousuke asks lowly to Haruka.

“Maybe.”

He looks at him suspiciously. “Yes you do you traveled all the time.”

“I don’t want to. I had others answer for me,” he argues with a frown.

“ _Honestly_ Nanase how old are you, really?”

“Twenty-five,” he answers matter-of-factly.

Sousuke pinches the inside corners of his eyes and takes a deep breath. “That was rhetorical. Fine, I’ll handle it.”

They make it to the front of their line and an exhausted-looking man looks over their passports and itinerary and makes a few notes. “English? Reason for travel?”

“Yes. Vacation,” Sousuke answers sloppily. He actually knows English, he needed it for his business degree, he just hates how he sounds speaking it since he rarely needs to and it’s thusly unpracticed.

“Where’re you staying?”

“Here.”

“Who you seeing?”

“Friends.”

“How long?”

“Four days.”

“He with you the whole time?” The officer jabs a pen in Haruka’s direction. He seems offended at the gesture and looks away with a pout.

_“Yes.”_ Goddammit he really needs to go to the bathroom. 

He stamps their passports and hands them back. “Welcome,” he says as he’s already looking to the next people in line. Sousuke takes off from the bottleneck towards the person-shaped sign in the distance. Haruka struggles to keep up behind him, running every so often to close the gap made. 

“We have to wait for Makoto by luggage,” he calls.

“I gotta pee, another basic human need you do not have apparently,” Sousuke throws over his shoulder.

“Let’s find Makoto first,” Haruka insists.

“Sorry, can’t hold it.” He speeds up and into the facilities and tries not to groan with relief like some sort of machismo-driven grunt, but no one’s around to hear it anyway. He exits when he finishes and Haruka’s back is pressed into the wall outside like he’s trying to merge with it. He shoots Sousuke a look he can’t quite place, but thinks it looks sort of angry. Sousuke decides then, with some confusion over the offense he apparently committed by needing to urinate, that Nanase is a high-maintenance travel partner.

“All right. Tachibana. Luggage. Let’s go,” he offers stiffly. 

Haruka shakes his head and starts walking towards the sign with a suitcase stamped on it. He clearly wants to stay ahead of him, so Sousuke slows his gait. Significantly. This guy is fucking slow on his feet. Go figure.

Once in the luggage area, Haruka climbs onto a bench and stands to survey the space for his friend. They both look over towards the sound of Tachibana’s voice carrying over the crowds that have accumulated, and Haruka climbs back down and darts off again without warning. 

“Nanase would you fucking wait?” he says mostly to himself as he attempts to follow him. He’s not quick but he can bob and weave with surprising aptitude and disappears behind larger people very easily. Sousuke runs into the back of him when he comes to a sudden stop, sending Haruka stumbling a step and earning Sousuke another look.

“Haru!” Makoto calls enthusiastically. “Ov-” He notices Sousuke behind him and his mouth snaps shut. Sousuke doesn’t miss his bewilderment overtaking his expression before it’s replaced by that tried and true unreadable Tachibana smile. “Oh, uh, Sousuke! Over here!”

Haruka stiffens in front of him, as he can probably feel the incendiary glare Sousuke is casting into the back of his head. “You didn’t tell them I was coming, did you?”

Haruka ignores him and walks towards Makoto. “Hi, Makoto.”

“How was your flight?” he greets to them both. Sousuke’s impressed with his recovery. Then again, Tachibana has been handling Nanase his entire life, and is probably immune to his oddities at this point. Like bringing an entire other person with him across the world without mentioning it as if Sousuke’s a tiny present he bought at the airport’s gift shop to give to his friends as an afterthought.

Haruka shrugs. “It was okay.”

“Do you have luggage, Sousuke?” Makoto asks politely.

“Yes.”

The wait for it ranks exceptionally high on Sousuke’s list of most awkwardly quiet moments of all time, somewhere just below that one time Rin plugged his headphones in only half-way to his laptop and didn’t notice until Sousuke leaned over the bunk and graciously pushed the jack in the rest of the way for him with the stoniest face he could muster while Rin nearly suffocated and at least four distinct men continued to audibly moan through the tiny earbuds anyw-

He clears his throat and dispels that thought as his bag carousels by. He snatches it and follows the two to the taxi area outside and prepares for another long moment of silence, but Makoto seems to have lined up some topics of conversation in the wake of their reunion. 

“Rin wanted to come but he needs to be up at six for an early practice,” Makoto explains without being asked. “I’m sure he’ll be really excited to see you, Sousuke.”

“I’m sure,” he mutters.

“Makoto,” Haruka interrupts.

“Oh, yeah! I forgot.” Makoto opens up the messenger bag he has with him and digs out a package of some sort, then hands it to him. Haruka opens it and starts eating the contents. Some sort of savory cracker or something. Sousuke can’t be bothered to pay it much attention. “Rin said you liked these.”

Haruka hums his appreciation.

“You’ll get a proper breakfast in the morning, the hotel has one,” Makoto continues. “Sousuke, I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything else! You must be starving.”

“Not like you knew I was coming, Tachibana,” he grumbles, making it a point to stare at Nanase as he does, who avoids making eye contact.

“Ah, I guess not,” he finally admits. “You know I’m really embarrassed about this, maybe I just forgot, honestly. I’ve been so tired since we got here.” Sousuke believes it. Tachibana looks a mess to him now that he looks him over, but it might just be because it’s so late.

“I didn’t tell you,” Haruka clarifies for him. “Or Rin.”

Makoto doesn’t treat it as anything other than a passing statement. “Well we will just have to see about getting an extra room once we get to the hotel. The team might’ve booked them up, though. But no big deal if not. Your room has two beds Haru.”

Sousuke hasn’t decided if he should let himself feel as livid as he thinks he should be or if he should wait out an explanation from Nanase. He’s leaning towards the former, and Nanase should be so lucky that Tachibana is here to keep him from fully embracing it. He makes one more attempt to light Haruka on fire with his scowl when Makoto runs up the sidewalk to wave down a cab he sees, but falters when Haruka stares vacantly at his feet as soon as Tachibana can’t see him.

“Am I justifiably angry or not?” he asks lowly enough so that it stays between them. “This is your chance to explain before I’m officially pissed off at you.”

Haruka pulls off his sweatshirt. It’s a wonder he’s kept it on this long, because Sousuke himself is sweating in short sleeves in the stale summer air.

He turns and fully faces Sousuke, levelling placid eyes at his own. “I’m sorry.” It’s clear and direct, which surprises him. “I genuinely didn’t think you would come. So I didn’t tell them. For both our sakes.”

“Oh.” Sousuke feels silly now for taking it so personally, though he knows he was entitled to be at least slightly upset over it. It makes sense to him when Nanase puts it that way. If he told them, and Sousuke didn’t go, then Sousuke looks like an asshole and Haruka looks desperate to have wasted the money and opens himself up to a lot of questions to a mystery that doesn’t even exist. “Well, you know, warn me next time or something.”

Haruka frowns but Makoto returns before the conversation can go anywhere else. A cab pulls up with him and finally, after 2:00 AM, they are on the way to the hotel. They cram into the back seat with Haruka in the middle.

Makoto prattles. Jesus _fuck_ can he talk to fill space when he wants to. It’s painfully obvious it’s killing Makoto to make such vapid conversation, too. Haruka isn’t responding past affirmations. Sousuke is actively not listening. So he’s left with the burning question _why._ He’s missing something here and maybe it’s good if him and Nanase share a room because he can’t say he isn’t slightly curious about where this tension is coming from. 

“Yamazaki,” Haruka says during one of the millisecond breaks Makoto takes between topics. “Do you have that water?”

“Uh, sure,” he answers, retrieving the half-empty bottle from a mesh pocket on his carry-on and handing it over.

Haruka pops open a pill bottle Sousuke never saw him grab and shakes one out into his palm. Makoto’s gaze flickers to it before it goes to the window and stays there. He keeps talking over the action and Sousuke raises an eyebrow at Haruka at the entire exchange, who looks at him over the water bottle as he swallows. It’s sort of a weird time to take a pill.

He almost looks like he’s trying to tell Sousuke a silent joke if his expression is anything to go by. There’s a playful look in his eye he can see even in the dark cab and he nods ever so slightly in Makoto’s direction as he hands the water bottle back. He walks himself back through what he just saw and it clicks.

Tachibana totally ignored Haruka. That was the antidepressant from last week. The constant fretting and asking and mothering snack-giving all stopping dead in its tracks so he could keep on talking about the hotel hot tub and suddenly find the pitch black scenery with the occasional street light a more interesting view. Huh. The realization must dawn on his face as well because Haruka looks pleased at his response and lightly presses an elbow into his arm in a sort of gesture of camaraderie, he figures. 

If that’s how Makoto treats Haruka’s depression, and Sousuke is one-hundred percent sure Rin is worse without needing to ask, no fucking wonder he chose to keep it to himself. How annoying. He wonders how much of this is really amusing to Nanase, or if it’s just so upsetting that he doesn’t know how else to get by it other than making a joke of it. He might have to have a few frank words with _Tachibana_ of all people, who probably doesn’t even mean anything bad by it. 

Makoto pays the cab fare at the hotel and casts a pleading look to Sousuke as they walk into the empty lobby. “I’m sorry to ask Sousuke, but since you’re here, and Rin mentioned you knew English once... I’m still really bad at it! But if you don’t want to I can probably-”

He sighs and cuts him off. “It’s fine. I’ll talk to them.”

“Oh, really? That’ll save us a ton of time. I’m so exhausted I’m not sure I could understand anything right now.” A yawn catches him as he says it. “I’d offer to let you sleep in our room while I take the other bed in Haru’s, Sousuke, but uh, it’s a single bed and since Rin doesn’t know you’re here yet it might give him a heart attack to wake up to.”

Sousuke and Haruka trade a glance. “Let’s do it,” Haruka says flatly.

“Haru!” Makoto cries. 

Sousuke snorts. “I’ll pass. You made it here ahead of us so I don’t trust the current condition of those sheets. Tempting, though.”

Makoto fumbles over his words for a moment before standing straight and looking at both of them sternly. “ _And_ Sousuke! _Honestly._ ” 

“Is the room under my name?” Haruka asks, cutting off the banter.

“Yeah, and Rin paid for it, so it should be simple. They’ll just need a credit card and I.D. from you.”

“Then go,” he tells Makoto, looking away and starting to walk towards the receptionist. 

Sousuke doesn’t miss Makoto scrunch his face up a little in offense at the blunt dismissal. “Sure, Haru,” he says after him before turning to Sousuke. “Well you’ll probably want to sleep in, so could one of you text me when you’re up? We’ll be at the pool we’re using for the event until a little after noon or so but then we’re free. Rin really wants to go out tomorrow night, probably more now that you’re here.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Sousuke answers.

Makoto looks like he wants to say something else, but shakes his head and brings a hand up in goodbye. “Thanks, Sousuke.” He walks and steps onto the elevator nearby and Sousuke follows Haruka’s path to get them checked in.

Haruka turns to him with two keycards and offers him one. “Let’s go. We’ll just use my room. No point in paying for two.”

“I thought-”

“I said I didn’t want to speak it, not that I couldn’t. I don’t like those customs officers.”

Sousuke wishes he could say he was even remotely surprised. “I need to go to bed before I say something rude to you that I would normally reserve for Rin.”

“After sleeping for ten hours you still want to go to bed?” he deadpans.

Sousuke scowls. “All right. I’ve taken enough pot shots from you for one day. You got about three seconds to get distance on me before I slam dunk you into a trash can, which is now a step below Rin and something I would reserve for a Mikoshiba.”

Haruka snorts and starts towards the elevator. He thinks Haruka calls him a _jock_ or something to the same effect in English under his breath and for his own sanity ignores it.

There’s no bath in their room, only a shower, which Haruka immediately remarks upon with a vicious sneer that doesn’t fit his usually passive face. Sousuke thinks better of a joke over it after seeing that. After a small bickering over who gets to wash the travel grime off of themselves first, Sousuke resigns to lie across his bed and wait for Haruka to finish his shower.

The room is small but at least Tachibana wasn’t lying about the beds. The art on the walls is really something else in terms of horror. Haruka pulls a face of disgust on the walk to his bed after his shower, towel over his head and shoulders, dressed in loose pants. Sousuke openly stares at his back while Haruka frowns at the offensive decor, because Nanase has always been objectively attractive- he can’t name a single one of their mutual friends that didn’t stare at him in high school when they thought he wasn’t looking- and Sousuke’s not exactly a Tibetan monk when it comes to self-discipline. 

Done with his scrutiny of the walls, thus ending Sousuke’s appreciation of his lean back, Haruka turns and plops onto the edge of his bed gracelessly and starts to towel down his hair. The day looks to have finally caught up with him. “I need to sleep so you should go shower now,” he mumbles with a bit of a slur. “I can’t sleep if you’re banging around in there.”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll be quick.” He is, because he would also like to get some sleep, and his neck is still stiff and is practically begging him for a pillow to rest on. When he emerges he’s in a similar pair of dark pants to Nanase’s and pushes out a weary _oof_ as he falls onto the edge of his bed.

“Do you still have that water?” Haruka says, barely above audible. He’s not convinced Nanase isn’t speaking in his sleep.

“Sure but, it’s old.”

“S’okay.”

Sousuke shakes his head and stiffly walks to his suitcase to fish out a shirt. “There were waters in the lobby, we should’ve grabbed some. I’ll go get a few.”

“Mm.” He’s not sure Nanase even heard him, but he goes and tracks a few bottles down anyway. 

The card reader beeps upon his return swipe and Sousuke feels bad, since it was sort of loud and Haruka already said he couldn’t sleep with noise, but when he opens the door he finds him curled up into the upper corner of his bed unaware of the disturbance. Upon closer inspection, he’s passed out. He’s starting to worry for his overall health, as Sousuke hasn’t seen him drink anything all day, but decides to leave him be anyway.

The curled-up thing is sort of weird, and reminds him vaguely of his stay in Nanase’s apartment. But maybe he just finds it comfortable, though to Sousuke it looks stifling. His head is even nearly covered, only the top is visible. Still for as terrible as it looks, Sousuke barely sees him breathing at all for how slowly his shoulders indicate it’s happening, so he must be sleeping well. Blinking himself out of his deluge of inane thoughts, he blames the exhaustion and turns off the lamp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Sousuke's actually a big fucking nerd.
> 
> iskabee @ tumblr


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke needs to cut some salt from his diet. Makoto kills a man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update one more time this week and then I'm going out of town for a godforsaken wedding (not a fan) and will only have my tablet to write and internet on for the weekend. No way in any lifetime or timeline will I try and format a chapter for posting from that thing.
> 
> Starting with this one, the chapters will be a bit longer for a spell. We gots some drama to cover while we're in Los Angeles.

Haruka wakes up to cheaply printed clashing mauve petunias marring his first sight of the day. He momentarily forgets where he is, and it comes back to him in the order of a hotel, in California, with Yamazaki in the other bed. He rolls over to confirm the last thing, and finds he’s gone. There’s a water bottle on the table between the beds within his reach which he next remembers asking about before he fell asleep.

He downs half of it quickly, only noticing how dehydrated he is when he has to stop to catch his breath. Sousuke didn’t have much water either, or food for that matter, so he wonders if he’s off in search of it for himself.

Haruka didn’t finish his admittedly self-indulgent pizza-flavored crackers that Rin tracked down for him, and he doesn’t feel up to wandering around the hotel in search of that breakfast Makoto mentioned so it’ll have to do. He stops by the bathroom for his usual routine then retrieves the half-eaten snack from where he stowed it in his bag but doesn’t get to eat it before there’s a knock at the door. More of a dull thump of a shoe kicking the base, really.

“Hey, you up? Open the door,” is the muffled greeting.

Haruka crawls to the edge of the bed and reaches out from it to open the door and let Sousuke in. He has a covered plate in each hand and two bottles of juice wedged up under one arm. Haruka relieves him of a plate he holds out and scoots back with it so his back is against the wall with the clashing petunias while Sousuke sets his plate and drinks down on the middle table and takes his own seat. 

Sousuke yawns. “I don’t know what any of this shit is so I grabbed everything. Something should be edible.”

“It all looks… bready,” Haruka observes after peeling the plastic wrap back.

He looks guilty. “I noticed. Sorry. That’s all there was.”

Haruka shrugs. “Not your fault. I like these things.” He holds up a bagel with raisins. 

“It's a bagel. Do you eat food? Like real food. Fruits and vegetables and non-fish meat.”

“Sometimes.”

Sousuke makes a noise of exasperation. Haruka’s not sure why the other seems so annoyed by it. It’s his diet, not Sousuke’s. 

“ _Anyway._ We got time to kill, it’s only ten. I texted Tachibana and he said they probably won’t be done and headed back until after one.”

“Does Rin know you’re here now?”

“I assume. I didn’t ask though.”

He hums in acknowledgement and stops talking to eat. To appease Sousuke’s not-so-subtle judging gaze, he eats some bacon and a sealed cup of peaches alongside part of the bagel which proves to be too much to finish more than half of. Sousuke nudges one of the bottles of juice towards him and takes the other for himself. 

With the mention of Rin, it reminds him that Makoto said something about _going out_ tonight. Haruka has enough experience with Rin to know what that means. It means a whole lot of what Rin wants to do to unwind and exactly nothing that Haruka wants to do.

“Would you lie for me if I said I was sick?” he asks Sousuke without elaboration.

He laughs around a drink of his apple juice. “I think I’ve established I’m not going through this by myself. You have to suffer if I do.”

Haruka loses his appetite a bit and leans forward to drop his plate onto the middle table and asks the question he hopes Sousuke is asking himself too. “Why are we being like this?” 

They both go silent for a while until Sousuke sighs. “I don’t know. They’re our best friends. And we’d rather be anywhere but here with them, wouldn’t we?”

He looks down at his lap. At least Sousuke had the courage to say it. “Well why are you so angry at Rin?”

“What’s your deal with Tachibana?” he shoots back.

“I asked first. And I’m not going to tell you. Is it because Rin doesn’t talk to you?” He braces himself for Sousuke to get defensive, because Haruka isn’t planning on spilling until he has a better handle on what exactly _is_ going on between him and Makoto first, but it doesn’t come. Sousuke is quiet at first, then clears his throat and speaks.

“I think I disappointed him,” he starts. Haruka wasn’t expecting that and he looks up to see Sousuke already looking directly at him. “And I think he doesn’t talk to me because he finds me… I don’t know. A waste or something. I think I remind him of the thin line that separates all that success he has from the mediocrity I got stuck in. That _sucks,_ you know? Knowing you’re someone’s worst case scenario. Even worse when it’s the person you’re closest to. What else can I do but be pissed at him? Any other emotion towards him leaves me feeling like a failure. At least being mad gives me a little bit of control back.”

Haruka doesn’t know how Sousuke ended up where he is. He honestly still doesn’t know much about him at all. But he can hear the shame in his voice and it resonates.

“He wanted to swim with me but I just couldn’t get my shoulder to where it needed to be for that. I tried. I really did. Therapy, surgery, more therapy; you think of it, I tried it. Everything I was supposed to do. Tons of money and time. And even after all that... it isn’t _perfect._ It still acts up, I still injure it. I wasn’t about to go fuck it up again for a few more laps with him. It doesn’t cause me daily agony anymore, which was a really big deal for me, but all he could say was ‘keep trying’. I just need him to respect that some things in life have to be good enough.” 

Haruka senses he’s finished and takes a chance. Steps into Sousuke’s space closer than he probably has any right to. “Why don’t you just tell him that?”

“You think I _haven’t?_ ” Sousuke nearly growls at him.

“I _know_ you haven’t. He’d feel awful to know you thought that. You probably just say ‘maybe’ and make him think there’s still a chance you’ll go back and swim. He’s stubborn. You have to spell it out for him.”

Sousuke leans forward stiffly, his body language finally closing off this topic. It went farther than Haruka expected it too, though. He thought the other would just tell him to mind his own business as soon as he tried to pry. “What the hell do you know about me and him?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know anything about you, Yamazaki. But I know Rin.”

This seems to get him to back down. He drops his stony expression for a more weary one and his shoulders relax. “I’m sick of talking,” he mutters, breaking eye contact.

“Me too.” Haruka scoots off his bed and walks over to his bag, retrieving an outfit for the day. He barely hooks his thumbs onto the waistband of his night pants when Sousuke scoffs.

“We have a bathroom.”

“Who gets changed in a bathroom?” he argues over his shoulder. 

“People with a sense of propriety in the presence of others.”

Haruka turns around and looks him dead in the eye, and simply drops his pants.

“...Goddammit.”

“So what should we do in the meantime?” he asks Sousuke nonchalantly while he bends to grab the shirt he picked out off the mattress.

Sousuke folds his arms over his chest. “I’m not planning anything with you while you’re standing there in your underwear.”

He sighs and pulls his pants on next. “Okay. So what should we do in the meantime?”

“ _Cheeky,_ ” he mumbles. “Well we can’t go far. We don’t know what’s around or anything.”

“So let’s just walk. Halfway to one, we’ll turn around and come back unless Makoto and Rin leave sooner.” Haruka stoops and puts his bag back into order, zips it up, and kicks it into the corner.

Sousuke shrugs and hops to his feet, shoes still on from his last outing. “As long as none of it costs money, as we have none. Rin’s footing this entire bill. He’s rich compared to us.”

Haruka nods. “I can agree with that.”

“I’ll pay you back for the plane ticket, though,” Sousuke adds quickly.

He hadn’t even thought about that. “If you want to. But I’m not looking for it. You got me my painting back and that’s about what I sold it for.”

Sousuke cocks an eyebrow at him. “...You paid me for _your own_ painting, then. So yeah, dork, I’m going to pay you back.”

He contorts his face at him for a moment in mild offense before turning his attention to his shoes.

It only occurs to Haruka as they’re exiting the front of the hotel that they both assumed they’d be spending time with the other until their respective best friends were done with their commitments. Sousuke could have just as easily wandered off on his own, Haruka could have found the pool. Instead he suggested a vague walk in one direction with no destination and the other only asked him to lead the way. 

They walk in silence for an indeterminate amount of time, taking in the sights of the city. They’re in a busy part of town and the hustle and bustle is a little like home in a few ways. The buildings are tall, the billboards are endless, the people mill about each with their individual purposes and yet still make up a rolling cloud of aimlessness. 

Haruka imagines if he were plucked from Iwatobi and dropped here with no adjustment in the middle, he’d literally not even leave the hotel. But living in a large city himself now has helped steel his nerves a little. Maybe he isn’t great in a crowd still, but at least it doesn’t send him panicking. It’s another plus for living in Tokyo. The longer he stays there, the more he finds to at least tolerate about it. 

Sousuke also has a relaxed way of moving through his space, which Haruka finds placating. Even when he clearly has no idea, for example, what this street is even called, he still has his hands shoved lazily in his pockets and a bored default expression good enough to match and check Haruka’s. But he’s paying attention. His eyes are alert, sweeping across crowds and storefronts, and Haruka feels like he can watch Sousuke mentally tucking little details away as he passes objects of interest. He doesn’t jump or pause when street vendors yell in their direction, doesn’t think people on bluetooths are speaking to him. Haruka would think he was spaced out completely if he wasn’t making the smallest indication of expression towards things he presumably finds interesting. 

He wonders after making these observations if Sousuke’s ever turned those deconstructive eyes on _him._ And not just the obvious leer at his body from the night before, which he was very much aware of as smooth as Sousuke thought he was being. But the analytical gaze he sees now that’s disassembling whole pieces down to their parts and putting them back together again. Haruka wishes he could ask what he’s seen if he has looked, but he isn’t sure he wants to know. It unnerves him to think someone could look at him and distill him into neatly packaged sections and then carefully put him back together without him ever knowing their conclusion. 

Yet at the same time, Sousuke’s been here for him, whether Haruka wanted him to be or not. It’s still a little odd when he sits back and tries to think about it objectively. He came out of nowhere and he hasn’t gone away. But because of it, now that’s he’s proven to be someone Haruka admits to liking, Haruka has come to value his opinion even though he hasn’t really given him one on anything one way or the other. Everyone else is always quick to give their opinion on everything. On him, on each other, on anything and everything. Something he’s always found annoying. But Sousuke doesn’t seem to think it’s important to get his opinion across without being asked. Haruka gets the impression he doesn’t feel like he has anything to prove to anyone.

So, naturally, Haruka is curious about what Sousuke thinks of him, and what he sees when he looks at him. He also wishes he never finds out at the same time, because Sousuke’s opinion _matters_ to him. Haruka sometimes doesn’t even care what _Makoto_ thinks of him on his worst days, so this development has left him, simply put, afraid. Afraid that he suddenly cares that much for the assessment of a person that’s been in his life for all of two weeks and afraid of what the answer is should he dare to ask.

“We should head back.”

Haruka has apparently been the one spacing out, as that startles him and he stutter-steps before coming to a stop. “Already?”

“We’ve been out for over an hour. I think you were on another planet for most of it though,” he says with a small smile to indicate he doesn’t mean any offense by it. 

“I guess I needed a little calm before the storm,” Haruka lies, feeling embarrassed.

Sousuke looks uneasily back down the way they came. “You and me both.”

-

The storm in question freezes rock solid in the doorway to Haruka and Sousuke’s room shortly after they’ve returned to it.

“Hey Rin,” Sousuke greets as if he sees him every day.

Rin gapes and blinks a few times before dispelling whatever’s anchoring his feet to the ground. “Holy _fuck!_ ”

Haruka thinks he looks twelve years old again underneath the foul mouth. Rin runs right past him and throws himself at Sousuke, who goes rigid but catches him in a quick hug. “This is amazing!” he shouts, stepping back and clapping down over Sousuke’s shoulders. 

Rin doesn’t stop to ask about what changed between his slip up on the phone and Sousuke’s appearance in California, Haruka notices, but doesn’t figure he will in front of everyone. 

“You kept him a secret all day? I’m impressed,” Haruka mutters to Makoto who steps into the room after Rin tears across it. 

“Well, I thought it would be a nice surprise. Besides, if I told him, he wouldn’t have been able to focus during practice and the meet is in two days.”

Rin turns his sights on him next. “Haru!”

“Hi.”

He beams at him, as if Haruka just told him he’s the coolest person he’s ever met. Which Haruka would never, ever say. “I’m so fucking excited to see you guys!” He turns to Makoto. “Did you know about this?!”

Haruka sees Sousuke’s mouth draw tight in anticipation of what he’ll go with.

“I did, yeah,” Makoto lies through his smile without any sort of pause to think of it. “We all wanted to surprise you.”

It’s smart. If he said no, Rin might take it the wrong way and think Sousuke was here to spite him. Which maybe he is, but it’s better if Sousuke gets a chance to talk to him first and correct it himself if he wants to. Now that he thinks of it, Makoto doesn’t even really know why Sousuke came with either. Haruka marvels for what has to be the millionth time at his friend’s ability to recover from situations, or at least present them as non-issues while he’s still trying to get answers himself to keep everyone happy.

It seems to be what Sousuke is looking for as well, as he relaxes.

Rin doesn’t respond right away. “...Well I’m fucking starving!” he announces. “Think I could convince you guys to come with me some place? I really want to chat and bug you but I haven’t eaten all day.”

Sousuke and Haruka shrug, Makoto nods. 

“Thank god. I really didn’t want anything this place has and I’ve barely used any of my stipend.” He turns back to Sousuke again. “Seriously. You don’t know how happy I am that you’re here. Haru’s lame.”

“Rin,” Makoto sighs.

Rin smirks at them both. “You know I’m kidding.”

“Glad I could be here for you,” Sousuke offers with a quick ruffle through Rin’s hair to distract him from the painfully sarcastic delivery he sent the line with. Or maybe only Haruka noticed that.

“Dick!” He steps back and smooths the strands back down. “All right. I scoped out a little Japanese place down the street for Haru already. So let’s just do that so he can order his fish and be pacified and not starve.”

“Finally,” Haruka says with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “I thought I’d just die on this trip, as I am clearly incapable of eating anything else.” Sousuke snorts. 

Rin glares at Haruka, then Sousuke. “You know what? I take it back. Two sarcastic fucks browbeating me for four days actually sounds like a nightmare. So Haru, get lost.”

“Both of you stop,” Makoto steps in. “It’s been five minutes. I need at least one day of peace before I have to start breaking up your bickering.”

Haruka humphs like a scolded child and looks over to Sousuke for some backing. He seems happy to stay out of it but spares a sympathetic twitch of his lips. 

“...So how was traveling with Haru? Isn’t it the fucking _worst?_ ”

Haruka grabs the pillow off of his bed and throws it at him.

-

Usually when Rin and Haruka met up in the past if their teams crossed paths, Rin went out of his way to find an authentic Japanese restaurant for them to get a bite to eat at in whatever quick forty minute window they could grab together. It’s tradition at this point, even if Haruka isn’t on a team to cross paths with him anymore. 

Rin gives him a hard time, but Haruka knows it was just as important to him. He can tell it still is by the way his face lights up when they’re finally sitting across from each other at a booth with their respective best friends sitting at their sides in a cozy hole-in-the-wall joint with a staff that does not speak a word of English. Haruka silently commends Rin’s efforts with a return smile that anyone looking for would miss if they blinked.

Of course Rin wastes no time ribbing him for his meal choice. He’s happy to eat his grilled fish anyway, even if the joke that he eats too much of it is older than some high schoolers by now and not even close to being funny. Makoto and Sousuke eat quietly while Haruka and Rin go through the usual script. There’s comfort here, even if the conversation is tired.

“So,” Rin punches out between bites of cold pork, “tonight. I want to go out.”

Haruka’s been dreading this. “I never get to,” Rin continues. “And now I got the three best people in the world with me and a little free time.”

Sousuke rolls his eyes. “Don’t suck up to try and get us to go with you.”

Rin grins. “It works though.”

“On Tachibana maybe,” Sousuke remarks while he pushes rice around the edge of his plate in a neat circle with his chopsticks.

“I’m not that bad, am I?” Makoto asks in earnest.

“Who would you like to answer that for you?” Sousuke asks with a feigned enthusiasm.

“Leave him alone you fuckin’ bully,” Rin delivers with a kick under the table Haruka can feel that causes Sousuke to grunt.

“Why don’t you answer it, Sousuke?” Makoto asks sweetly. 

Haruka turns his eyes back to the last few bites of fish he has because he is a pacifist and does not like to directly witness Makoto murdering the people who manage to get under his skin like Sousuke clearly just has. It’s not like Sousuke could’ve known, but Makoto doesn’t take kindly to criticism regarding his relationship with Rin. He probably should’ve thought to warn him. Rin turns his head towards Sousuke and rests his chin on one hand in wait with fluttering eyelashes and a little devious grin.

“If you’re asking _me_ if packing up your _entire life_ and moving across the world solely to tag along with this idiot is giving into his sucking up or not,” Sousuke says with an underlying laugh that borders on cruel, “then I think you know my answer.”

Haruka knows without looking at him that Makoto never drops his smile as he speaks next and it even gives him a slight chill, and he’s used to it. “I wasn’t aware it was considered sucking up now to _want_ to be with the person you’re in a relationship with. Or is that only what you think this is because you don’t know any better in your own life?” 

Haruka can tell by his gasp of distress that Rin thought Makoto would do some lighthearted ribbing, not outright tear out Sousuke’s throat. “Jeez, Makoto,” he mutters, looking at his boyfriend in surprise. Haruka keeps his eyes on his plate and tries to disappear. “A little low?”

Sousuke glowers at him. “You got me, Tachibana. I am not familiar with the ass that launched a thousand ships. You’ll have to explain the appeal of a cock worth putting your life on hold for. Don’t skip the details.”

“Sousuke!” Rin snaps. “I’m right here!”

Makoto laughs to shatter the tension and Haruka returns his eyes to the scene to see him shrug his shoulders. “It’s just a little teasing, Rin. All in good fun.”

“I don’t want to hear about your dick anyway,” Sousuke says with a shove to get Rin out of his space.

Rin is now happily oblivious and shoving Sousuke back, which Haruka is sure was Makoto’s goal, but he doesn’t miss Sousuke’s lingering look towards his best friend or Makoto’s matched stare. Like the four of them really needed anymore conflict.

“Well I’m stuffed,” Rin says. “Wanna see Hollywood? We can go look at the stars-in-the-ground thing. I’ve never been and a buddy told me we’re nearby.”

Sousuke is quick to agree, looking like he just wants to get out of the booth as soon as possible, followed by Makoto and begrudgingly Haruka. 

There’s a cloud over Sousuke as they walk down Hollywood Boulevard, which thankfully Makoto and Rin are too distracted to notice. They take their pictures, Haruka and Sousuke oblige them and even take a few of their own, but Haruka is hyper-aware the entire time that Sousuke’s in a bad mood. He waits for a chance to talk to him, and tries not to worry himself with why he even wants to get involved. Sousuke brought all that on himself. There was no need for him to take it that far. Still he finds the opportunity to talk an hour into their excursion when Rin ducks into a costume shop stating a mighty need for pictures of Makoto in funny hats and Makoto follows him laughing.

They find a bench and sit next to each other. Haruka’s feet are a bit tired from their walk prior and the long-winded outing this is turning into. He only brought flat sneakers which aren’t the best for long distances. 

“He takes it personally,” Haruka says without thinking he needs to say much else. “A lot of people have doubted his choice to leave and it gets to him. He doesn’t want Rin to know that it does.”

“I don’t give a shit about that,” Sousuke says thickly. “I’m glad he put me in my place. Someone had to.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Sousuke slumps a little on the bench. “...He’s just good at that.”

Haruka assumes it to mean that Makoto is good at reading people, which he most certainly is. Eerily so. He saw a chance to shut Sousuke up on the topic by turning it back on him and it worked. At the expense of Sousuke’s feelings, and Makoto obviously knows enough about Sousuke to have known what would sting a little, but not too much. Makoto will apologize later, but only for making him feel bad. Not for what he said. 

Makoto’s deft handling of other people used to be entirely to their benefit. But he’s developed a nuance to this trait over the years. It’s always made him a great friend to have, but now it makes him a terrifying enemy to make, too. If anything that was his one warning to Sousuke demonstrating the difference.

“Just talk to him,” Haruka tries. “I’m sure he isn’t mad.”

Sousuke clicks his tongue. “He should be. I would be fucking livid if someone said something like that to me. I just can’t keep my mouth shut. I just kept going after he gave me a chance to drop it, too.”

“It’s Makoto. It takes a lot to get him angry at anyone. He was just annoyed. The only person angry at you for it, is you. He’s already over it.”

“You think so?” It’s so unsure Haruka doesn’t even think it comes from him at first.

Haruka blinks a few times to make sure he actually just heard that and looks over at him quizzically before answering cautiously. These short, microscopic glimpses into Sousuke’s insecurity over the last two weeks get more and more intimate with every slip up and he’s not sure how he feels about it. “...He’s always liked you. Don’t worry about it. Just be careful around that topic and apologize when you get a moment alone. Makoto is kind, but he isn't a pushover. He stood up for himself, that's all.”

“Hmm. Yeah.” He sits back up a little and the air about him changes and feels easier. “Thanks, Haru.”

It feels like someone just tipped his chair back as a prank to make him think he was falling and suddenly the ground is a much more interesting view for both of them. That’s how it stays for another few minutes. Between his advice to Sousuke regarding Rin and now Makoto, Haruka is surprised to learn just how uncomfortable Sousuke is in this environment. Haruka is no relationship advisor. Very far from it. That he has anything to offer Sousuke in this arena just tells him Sousuke really struggles with maintaining his self-confidence in the face of people who have the power to take it from him if they so choose to.

“They kicked us out!” Rin complains, suddenly stepping in front of them and looking put-out. 

Makoto sidles up alongside him and clears his throat in embarrassment. “I’ve never been kicked out of anywhere.”

“It’s just because we weren’t buying. Anyway, I was thinking… about tonight. I sort of pushed it on you guys and I’m sorry.”

So Rin and Makoto had a little chat too, Haruka reads. Rin doesn’t just suddenly consider other people when he’s in one of his bulldozing upbeat moods. That’s Makoto’s job to gently remind him. 

“I just wanted to have fun with the downtime, like I said. I don’t get to go out a whole lot. Sousuke, you’re here, and I got really excited. But Haru I know you hate a crowd, and Sou I know you don’t like loud places. So put up with me, and tomorrow we’ll go to the beach to make up for it, yeah? A compromise? Just one night is all you gotta pretend for. You might even have fun, you sticks in the mud. Makoto does.”

Makoto smiles apologetically as Rin nearly makes it to the end of his monologue without insulting anyone, but doesn’t disagree. “If you really do hate it, we can leave,” he adds for his boyfriend.

Haruka finds himself agreeing without putting up any sort of fight, and even feels convinced that maybe it won’t be catastrophically _bad._ Rin doesn’t know this entire trip is one act of pretend for Haruka, but he doesn’t need to either. He’ll do it for Rin at the very least. Besides, he has Sousuke, which is better company than sitting at the bar by himself like he usually does when Rin or anyone else takes him out where there will presumably be dancing and other activities Haruka does not do. 

As they make their way back to the hotel, he catches Sousuke’s gaze on him- the one that breaks things apart and puts things back together- and his heart catches in a silent panic. Except he sees it’s kinder and softer than the one he saw earlier that moved with a mechanical precision over objects and strangers. Sousuke looks at him with the recognition he used to deny him and turns through him like the fragile dog-eared pages of a worn book. Looking for passages to take with him, looking for anything he’s missed in what he’s read so far, mining for anything that’s hiding. Haruka feels the very definition of exposed for the seven seconds Sousuke takes to do this to him, and by the time Sousuke closes the cover again and offers him a private smile after he’s finished skimming his fingertips over the pages, it’s all he can do not to let a cry of relief escape him that he didn’t frown instead.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke Yamazaki’s Guide to Constructive Discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the next update before I’m out for a few days. I need to write out a longer buffer too so a 3-4 day break will be good. 
> 
> I write this stuff pretty care-freely and loosely in general as it comes to me but I admit this chapter and the 2 that’ll come after it I put a shit ton of work into over and above my usual revision process to get _just right_ because they’re critical to the rest of the story. So I guess I’m hoping it shows? Cool. Thanks for reading, of course. I hope you like dialogue cuz this chapter has it in spades.

Sousuke should know better about a lot of things, but above all he should know better that when Rin says he wants to go out he means he wants to go to some godforsaken club he’s entirely too old for. He thought, naively, that maybe he just meant a bar. Or a laid back restaurant. His relentless swimming schedule put him a few years younger than the rest of them, mentally, because he’s right. He doesn't get the opportunity to get tired of this shit like the rest of them long since have. 

Correction, he thinks as he considers Haruka, like _he_ long since has. Nanase is smart enough to not have ever gone out to these awful places often enough to get tired of them.

He has a realization on the way over to this oppressive establishment about Makoto that he feels like shit for not having had sooner. Makoto is a quiet guy. Anyone who talks to him for more than two minutes could probably deduce that he’d much rather stay at home if it’s one of the options. Of the four of them, Rin is really the only outgoing one, and even he’s a little shy. Makoto is polite and his goal is to be kind, but he isn’t sociable past the surface pleasantries with strangers. So when Rin says with confidence that Makoto enjoys these outings, it finally clicks with Sousuke just how fucking devoted they are to each other. 

He does it because he loves him, and not just to appease him. He’s learned to enjoy it because he’s with that romantic idiot while he does it. Tachibana's photo is next to the definition of self-sacrifice in the dictionary. Makoto simply loves his life with Rin, and Rin is happier with him there, so he sacrificed everything to have it in the ultimate display of this trait. Rin in turn lets Makoto be a part of his professional swimming life, something he’s never done for anyone else who wasn’t swimming _with_ him. He shares his dreams with Makoto, has made him a part of his drive in a capacity other than a rival. _Rin made room for someone._ That’s fucking huge.

It was outrageously out of his lane to suggest Makoto follows Rin around like some lovestruck fool, like Rin had to coax him with gifts and cute words and sex. He can only dream of something strong like that in his current situation, and his jealousy reared its ugly head and made him make an ass of himself.

And per Haruka’s suggestion, that’s what he tells Makoto. In a nutshell, save the short tangent about Makoto’s personality, as that might’ve been too direct even for him.

Makoto stares at him for a few moments as a solid red blush breaks out across his face. “Um.” Then he bursts into a laugh at the strangled sound of his own voice and takes a sip of his drink. “I’m sorry Sousuke! That caught me off guard!” 

“I just wanted you to know,” he shouts above the music. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best venue for this conversation, but it was _bothering_ him and he’s a bit loose lipped at the moment.

“I’m really happy to hear that!” he shouts back with a real smile this time. Maybe the first real one Sousuke’s seen since he stepped off the plane. “I don’t think a lot of people got it!”

“Well I do,” he responds. “So I’m sorry for being a dick!”

Makoto shakes his head in denial and sets his drink down. “I’m sorry to have made you feel bad! Let’s just move on from it, okay?!”

Sousuke nods to agree, if only because he’s sick of shouting.

Rin returns with Haruka behind him to their little claimed table and lays out a few drinks. Sousuke laughs to himself for the third or fourth time that night so far looking Haruka over. He didn’t think through the clothes thing, and his obscure graphic tee over a plain pair of jeans in his ratty sneakers is one, unbecoming of a guy in his mid-twenties, and two, painfully out of place in this establishment. Sousuke and Makoto opted for conservative collared button downs, Rin’s wearing some way too tight patterned abomination that Makoto looks a little too into. 

So, none of this should surprise anyone, is the point he makes to himself.

What does surprise him is Rin plopping down with little thought of it right onto Tachibana’s lap, and what surprises him further are Makoto’s arms steadying his hips and not shoving him off in mortifying embarrassment. He sideyes Haruka to confirm this is as weird as he thinks it is, and the other looks like he wants to pinch himself to make sure he’s awake and _seeing this._ Okay good.

Haruka takes a seat next to him with a sizeable gap, probably subconsciously, and goes for his drink with a noticeable edge of urgency. Sousuke can’t disagree with that notion and joins him.

“Dance with me!” Rin shouts to Makoto.

“I have,” he whines in return, “A lot!”

“Makoto! Come on, _they’re_ not gonna!” he pleads with a nod in Sousuke’s direction.

“Fuck no!” Sousuke calls back.

Rin leans forward to Makoto’s ear and says something that makes his eyes go fully round and his fingers fan out along the sides of Rin’s thighs. Sousuke tries to keep a straight face, Haruka does not. Makoto reaches over Rin for his drink off the table and finishes it quickly. He has to be a few deep because every time Rin drags him away he hastily finishes what he has and this has happened a few times now. He pats Rin on the knee to get him to hop off. “All right, pushy!”

When they’re gone Sousuke looks to Haruka helplessly as he scoots a little closer to him so he can be heard. “What that fuck was that?!”

Haruka shrugs. He isn’t a fan of shouting over the music and has exclusively communicated in shrugs and nods all night. 

“They always like that?!”

He shakes his head _no._ Then again more quickly. _Hell no._

“Are they drunk?!”

He shrugs again. 

Sousuke’s starting to feel like an idiot shouting like he is. He shuts up and clinks his glass to Haruka’s, who doesn’t seem to get that gesture, and downs it. Some vodka monstrosity that makes his stomach lurch. Only Rin. He sits and waits for Nanase to nurse his own before planning anything else, but instead Haruka’s shoulders heave in a sigh before he bottoms out his glass, too. Another line for the book of surprises Sousuke’s learned about him in a short amount of time.

Sousuke nods to the bar where the music isn’t as chest crushing and Haruka’s already jumping to his feet. Rin’s going to be pissed they walked away from the coveted seating area, but Sousuke’s not going to sit there in silence staring at Nanase, either.

Haruka looks like he’s been holding his breath the entire time for how relieved he seems to be able to hear himself think a little better. It’s still loud, but he must find it manageable to speak over. “Rin gave me some money. Do you want something not disgusting?” he asks Sousuke.

“Uh, sure?” What the fuck, who are you? is what he wants to say.

“I know how to drink, Yamazaki,” Haruka argues with a crease on his brow. “I have a life.”

He puts his hands up in silent surrender. “I just didn’t pin you for it.”

“I don’t care for it, but what else is going to make a club bearable? I always get dragged to these, so I have strategies.”

“Fair enough I guess.”

Sousuke calls the bartender for a whiskey and coke and Haruka asks him to ask the bartender for a tequila sunrise. He can’t help it, he has to make a scene of this, if only because that was a choppy thing to try and say in an accent the bartender could understand with all the ruckus and he needs a little revenge. “ _Tequila._ Where are you from again?”

_“Whiskey,”_ Haruka argues.

“It’s common enough in the city! Tequila isn’t. Where have you even found that in Tokyo?”

“It’s a secret,” he says coyly over the rim of the drink in question when it’s slid to him. He pays the bartender.

If Sousuke were honest with himself, he’d admit he was buzzed when he spilled his guts to Makoto, the vodka concoction is currently hitting his bloodstream, and he’s drinking his spiked coke way too quickly. But he’s not being honest with himself, and convinces himself he speaks now from a position of loose sobriety. “Who the fuck are you, Haru?”

Haruka stays placid and takes another drink before setting it back down on the bar. “There’s probably a different answer to that depending on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.”

“I’m not that interesting. You don’t have to ask with wonderment like I have some sort of profound answer for you,” he says while he traces patterns into the condensation forming on his glass.

_“An artist living in Tokyo.”_

Haruka’s ministrations stop and he looks up at him.

“Not very useful,” he tsks. 

“I’d say that covers it,” Haruka replies dismissively.

“You swim,” he reminds him with a point. “That’s a big thing to leave out.”

“I _swam._ ”

“Oh did you quit since we went last week?” he prods with a little smile.

Haruka doesn’t break eye contact while he finishes his drink. Bottomed out quickly again, Sousuke observes. “You know what I mean.”

Sousuke nods. “I do. It’s hard to call yourself a swimmer from this perspective, isn’t it?”

“And what perspective is that?” he asks playfully.

“From all the way down here.”

The bartender walks by and Haruka grabs him and orders something else and points to Sousuke’s drink too.

“Nanase,” Sousuke protests.

“It’s only eleven. We got a while until those two are done from my experience.”

“You just sit at the bar and drink while they dance,” he states with incredulity to the action in question. Sure didn’t seem like Rin wanted to dance.

“If you saw how they danced you wouldn’t want to third wheel with that either. They’re just happy I go.” He pays again when the drinks arrive. “Pick a name, by the way,” he commands pointedly.

“Huh?”

“Stop going back and forth. It’s annoying.”

Oh. The name thing. “Haru feels weird.” It does. He associates it with Rin and Makoto, mentally rolling Nanase in as part of a trio instead of a person on his own when he hears it. “Nanase feels too formal and cold.”

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t care what you choose but you can’t use both.”

“Haruka, then,” Sousuke gambles.

Haruka’s quiet for a moment and Sousuke sees a day’s worth of internal arguments flash across his features over it. “Fine,” he finally says, looking away to drink. “...Sou.”

“Oh fuck no! That’s Matsuoka privilege only.” He shivers and grimaces. “God that was awful never say that again.”

“It hurt me too,” Haruka says with a small laugh. “Couldn’t resist.”

Jesus, his laugh is a breath of fresh air. It’s a fucking shame it’s so goddamn seldom.

“All the way down here,” he continues, laying their name debate to rest. 

Sousuke takes himself back a few minutes and remembers where they left off. “At the bottom, looking up.”

Haruka appraises him without any effort to hide that he is. He comes to some sort of conclusion Sousuke can’t read, but the scrutiny of his attention makes him fidget. “If I’d kept going how I was…” he starts and trails off, “I wouldn’t be here with you right now. This is anywhere but the bottom for me, Sousuke.”

He swallows hard and the fresh air that hit him with Haruka’s laugh gives way to something more like a thick smoke. 

“It got that bad?” he asks dumbly. Of course it did, moron. He just said it.

“It did,” he says quietly.

“Shit. I’m sorry. You don’t have to say anything. I’m slow here, I didn’t mean to make you repeat it.”

Haruka snorts. “You’re not slow, you’re drunk. But it’s all right. It’s in the past.”

He frowns. “Am I? Drunk. Am I drunk. Not in the past.”

“You’re here in the present. Now spin around on your stool.”

His frown deepens. “Just the request makes me dizzy.”

Haruka snorts. “There’s your answer.” 

He reaches for his drink and only ice cubes clink in the glass. This is the chattiest he’s ever seen Haruka. He retracts that. Chatty isn’t it. Wide fucking open is more appropriate. He’s learned so much from admittedly so little. He wishes they could talk just like this forever, with a fog keeping them content and calm and with their souls on display if only because he’s never known catharsis quite like this and it’s _liberating._

He’s also aware that he’s exaggerating, but he still does feel pretty good.

But speaking like this also comes so surprisingly easy to him. Even when Haruka was totally closed off they traded banter with a familiarity Sousuke thought could only come with time. Today, all day, Haruka has kept his fists unclenched and palms upturned and outstretched, even in the face of Sousuke’s defensiveness, his jealousy, and his anxiety. Today, for the first time in his life, Sousuke can call Haruka his friend. He hasn’t been able to say that about nearly enough people in his life. He lets himself cherish it.

The movement on his periphery is a blur of sequins and skin and the music has been steadily fading into the background. Haruka swirls his drink around, focused pensively on a knot in the wood that makes up the bar. Sousuke can’t just let what he said, something as soul-bearing as revealing his rock bottom, slip into a stupid joke like that.

“Haruka.”

He looks up in acknowledgement.

Sousuke starts speaking before he can psych himself out, as clear and sober as he can. It was easy with Tachibana; they may not be close but they respect each other and can communicate objectively. Sousuke concedes that after today, Haruka isn’t on the same level as that anymore. They’re friends. Everything he says from now on is going to ring differently than it would to someone in Makoto’s position. 

“I’m happy that you’re in my life. That you’re here and that you can say a time when you didn’t want to be is in the past now.”

Haruka leans an elbow on the bar and presses his closed mouth into the back of his hand. He skirts his eyes around Sousuke’s face from that angle, unblinking and contemplative. Sousuke can’t pin down whether he’s surprised or embarrassed or nonplussed or what. Sousuke starts to think he’s not going to acknowledge he said anything at all for how long he stays that way. Finally he sits up straight, looks ahead into the bar area, and takes a sip from his glass.

“Me too,” he chooses to say. It’s thick and comes from somewhere deep in Haruka’s chest, rather than the usual quick strike from tip of his tongue.

Sousuke smiles and faces forward as well, the little half-spin it takes to do so confirming Haruka’s suspicions of his disposition. 

-

At some point Rin throws himself onto Sousuke’s back and he’s sweaty and Sousuke bucks him off with the closest thing to a yelp he’ll ever make. He and Haruka had been blissfully sitting in a companionable silence enjoying their shared warmth and now full-on drunken state with only a passing comment here and there until Rin chose to interrupt them the way that he did. Makoto only quietly says Haruka’s name to announce his presence.

“ _There_ y’are god Sou I’ve been lookin’ _forever_ fuckin’ figures you found the quiet corner oh hey Haru,” Rin drawls without heed to where his sentences begin and end.

“You ready to go?” Sousuke asks him, turning around to face them then bracing his elbows behind him on the bar to steady himself because that full movement was a bad idea. Rin grins and tries to clamber onto him again and Sousuke pushes him off again.

“Really _really_ ready Makoto said he’s tired so we gotta go _right now._ ” As if Rin’s forgotten Makoto is right next to him, he gasps a little when Makoto gives his shoulder a squeeze. “Makoto! Aww.” Thankfully it stops Rin from trying to climb onto Sousuke any longer and he turns his sights to someone who can appreciate it a little better. Makoto looks to Sousuke helplessly but holds Rin up like he’s used to having to do so in these situations.

Haruka turns in his seat finally and hands Rin a glass of water. “Idiot.”

“Dumb... person,” he says with some difficulty while he takes it.

“Moron.”

“Stupid fish.”

“Imbecile.”

“Fuckin’ race me Haru when we get to the hotel I’ll kick your ass into next week.”

Haruka smirks. “You’ll sink as soon as you step in. You can’t even stand up now.”

“Wanna bet?!”

“Okay you two,” Makoto interrupts. “Take it to the cab.”

Rin looks like he was just grounded by his mother. “Makoto I’m sorry.”

He laughs. “Rin, it’s okay.”

Sousuke hates that he finds this endearing and glares at them both in retribution.

“I’ll get a cab,” Haruka announces. He hops off the stool and Sousuke tries not to gape after him because he’s carrying himself like he hasn’t had just as much to drink as Sousuke has, and he’s _significantly_ smaller than him. Okay slightly smaller. Like still filled out, just shorter. Half a head. About. But filled out.

“Stop it Sousuke you’re being gross I’m gonna throw up lookin’ at you,” Rin snaps, leaning towards him. 

Sousuke glowers at him. “Fuck off.”

“Nuh-uh I am in charge of who checks out Haru and you can’t. You’re not allowed.”

“How could I be checking anyone out with your fucking mug in my face? You’re not in charge of jack shit,” he growls. It’s been twelve hours and Sousuke’s starting to feel like he could sucker punch Rin and only feel marginally guilty for doing so. Sousuke isn’t shy about who he checks out and that _wasn't_ what that was. Apparently he is the only one bewildered by Haruka’s stone cold walk after five drinks.

“Rin, enough,” Makoto warns. “Stop harassing everyone. We need to follow Haru so we don’t lose him anyway.”

Haruka’s grabbed them a spacious cab with two rows of seats, thankfully. The normal sedans they’ve been getting forces someone into the front seat, usually Sousuke, and it’s awkward. 

“Take the front row Sou,” Rin commands.

“Yeah, yeah.” It’s just so Rin can hang off Makoto in the very back. He is aware of this tactic. 

The drive back at first is as uncomfortable as he expected it to be. Haruka seems content to stay quiet which does nothing to drown out anything coming from the row behind them. When he looks at Haruka though, he looks like he’s trying not to laugh. Haruka catches his gaze and has to cover his mouth and take a deep breath to keep from cracking entirely. This guy and the games he plays with himself... Sousuke relaxes. Haruka’s right. It is sort of funny, and nothing he’s never done before himself. He’s letting Rin’s entire existence get to him too much.

He realizes now that he’s sitting still again that Haruka has a pretty solid stain of pink across his cheeks, so clearly though he carries himself well, he actually can get drunk. Only Nanase would manifest drunkenness in such a way that has him trying _not_ to laugh at something funny. Absurd.

Makoto pays the cabbie so quickly he nearly forgets his change. He throws a quick and not even fully formed _“g’night!”_ over his shoulder as he ushers Rin in front of him and over to the elevator. The doors don’t get to close all the way before Sousuke gets an eyeful of a Makoto with not even a single fiber of self-control left.

“Impressive,” Sousuke compliments. “He kept it together nearly all the way to their room.”

“Makoto would rather not be arrested for public indecency, unlike Rin who seems to aim for it sometimes,” Haruka answers. “I want to sleep now.”

Sousuke sort of loves how declarative he is. 

“Thanks,” Haruka replies to thoughts spoken aloud, starting towards the elevator on the other side of the lobby.

He stumbles a step and is so, so thankful to every god ever conceived that Haruka has his back to him.

Haruka drinks an entire water bottle back in the room, pausing to take his pill, and disappears into the bathroom for a while. Long enough for Sousuke to fall back on his bed and watch the ceiling spin. He emerges cleaned up and in those pants again, and crawls into bed.

“Good night,” he says, and is silent. 

Sousuke tries not to be too disappointed at the abrupt end to the day. He’d wanted to talk more, just about whatever, while he still felt light and carefree. But they really had been talking all day already. Haruka has to be sick of him.

He cleans up as well, starting to sober up with a good splash of water on his face, as quietly as he can muster. Sleep doesn’t find him though once he settles down for it, jetlag likely being the culprit. He puts up with it for another hour or so and is about to just get up and walk around when his phone goes off from the pocket of his crumpled pants on the floor. Maybe someone from back home? Gou? He gets up to retrieve it.

_you up?_ Rin.

He goes back and forth for a few moments over whether or not he wants to respond. 

_yup._

_can we talk?_

Rin probably knows Haruka went straight to bed, and Tachibana’s likely soundly passed out too. This is as planned as it gets from Rin, so he must have something important to say.

_lobby?_

_be there in 5._

He slips into his shoes and throws on a shirt, and finally pockets his keycard and phone into his loose pants before making his way back to the front of the building. Rin’s already waiting in a black tracksuit. Good. It would’ve been difficult to have a serious conversation in those clothes from earlier.

“Come on,” Rin greets and starts walking.

Sousuke follows him out the front and down the street a ways before they stop in a secluded area on a footpath with a bench. Rin sits and scoots over for him.

“If you wanted to brag about how good that sex was you didn’t have to drag me out so far to do it.”

Rin cuts him a wicked grin. “It was pretty good. But you already know that isn’t why you’re here. I figure we aren’t going to get a lot of time to talk without the others, so. Two in the morning and half-drunk it is.”

“Well what’s up?”

Rin waves his hand to direct the conversation elsewhere. “You already know what I’m doing. What’s up with _you?_ ”

“Eh,” he answers.

“Work? Shoulder? _Anything?_ You don’t talk to me.”

“You don’t ask.”

“Well _tell_ me. Work?”

“Quit.”

Rin looks to him in surprise. “...Shit, really?”

Sousuke shrugs. “Yeah, walked out.”

“Good for you. Those guys were assholes. So what’s next?”

“I don’t know,” he grunts. “Only happened last week.”

Rin sighs. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Irritability seeps in. Rin can’t read anything, especially not when it comes to Sousuke. He’s about had it. “Don’t act like you want to know, Rin.”

Rin snaps his head over to him with a frown. “Of course I want to know. You can call me whenever you want to. For whatever reason.”

Sousuke laughs, dry and tired. “So can you.”

Rin’s eyes widen before he collapses forward with his elbows on his thighs and his hands folded in front of his face. “Fuck. I thought so. All right, you _are_ pissed. Lay it on me.”

He thinks he should’ve declined this offer to meet all of a sudden, because now he isn’t so sure if he can stay calm in his current state. “How do you think it felt to find out about your commitment thing from a fucking cell phone picture where your hand just happened to be in the frame?”

Rin sighs. “There’s a reason for tha-”

Sousuke holds up a hand. “Stop. I don’t want to hear your excuse. Just admit that you forgot to tell me.”

Rin bristles at the interruption. “Fine, of course you’d cut me off. You don’t give a shit about _anything_ that I’ve done,” he bites, “so why would you start now?”

“Bullshit. My entire life was centered around you. I want the world for you. How could you even say that to me?” Sousuke answers with a glare.

“Your life went to shit and you stopped cheering for me,” Rin says bitterly.

“That’s out of line,” Sousuke says with enough weight to shatter concrete. “Watch what you fucking say.”

“You could’ve done anything you wanted to because you’re capable and you’re smart and you let your father force you into his image,” Rin replies with equal measure.

“You’re one to talk!”

Rin straightens and whips around to face him. “Who the fuck is out of line now?!” he roars.

“You’re sitting here on your fucking high horse on this path where you have everything you could possibly want and you have the fucking nerve to tell me I didn’t _reach_ far enough?!” Sousuke yells in disbelief. 

“Well, you know what, it’s true! You gave up on _everything,_ ” he levels, like it’s been pent up in him for years. “You fucking quit! You walked away from every single thing you ever wanted to do and then you walked away from me too.”

Sousuke lurches forward and grabs Rin by the shirt, twisting it hard, and speaks coldly. “You don’t know anything, you selfish fucking asshole. You have no goddamn idea- _none at all_ \- what I went through to keep up with you before I finally had to admit that it was destroying me to try.” He releases him with a shove and stands. He’s thinking too vividly about putting Rin’s nose through the back of his skull. He needs to walk away.

“I would’ve known if you’d just told me,” Rin says quietly while Sousuke is still within earshot. Sousuke’s even more pissed off when his feet betray him and stop moving. “I asked and you just changed the subject. So I stopped asking. Any time I told you about anything I was doing, you either had something sarcastic or just plain scathing to say about it or had nothing to say about it at all. So I stopped telling. And soon I just… had nothing else to say to you. You are _mean_ to me, Sousuke.”

He turns and faces Rin even though he just wants to walk away from this. This isn’t salvageable. Their friendship has been on the rocks since Rin came back from Australia the _first_ time. They never really worked through all of their incompatibilities even then, and now he’s convinced it’s time to cut his losses. Absolutely none of this is worth the grief it’s been causing him for so many years. But he faces him anyway, because Haruka’s right. Rin needs to at least know why he’s walking away. 

“My shoulder never healed enough to swim with you again,” Sousuke confesses to the ground in front of him. “I tried, Rin. I really did. But when you told me to _keep_ trying… it tore me up. It started to feel like that’s all I was to you. You didn’t care that I wasn’t in pain. You just asked me to try harder. I didn’t want to tell you anything after that. I didn’t think I’d ever be good enough for you, and I didn’t think you’d care so long as I wasn’t swimming with you again. So what was the point? I lashed out at you.”

“I didn’t know any of that,” Rin cries. “Of course I don’t think that! But why didn’t you just _tell_ me?! Tell me to shut the fuck up! Tell me I’m being too overbearing! You never had a problem doing that in the past!”

“Why can’t you just _know?!_ ” he shouts so loudly it echoes. “It’s like I haunt you, Rin. Like you think you could be me if you fuck up. You push and you _push_ and you don’t care who you hurt as long as they’re not a reminder of the failure you could’ve been. _You never stop._ You never stop and think about who you’re forcing into things and why!”

“You’re not a failure!”

“Tell me when you’ve ever treated me as anything but that since you left again.”

Rin is on his feet. “Tell _me_ when you’ve treated me as anything but a punching bag since I left again!”

_“What?”_ Sousuke snarls low. 

Rin stalks over to him, incensed, and gets so far in his face that Sousuke forgets there’s even a height difference between them. “You take all this shit I can’t possibly know about out on me! I live thousands of miles away from you! I can’t just fucking know! You gotta _talk_ to me Sousuke! How many _fucking times_ do I have to _beg_ you not to keep shit from me?!”

“I can’t get a word in edgewise!” he screams back. “You speak _for_ me! Why can’t you accept that I can’t do what you do, be who you are?! Why the fuck would I talk to you when you’ve already made up your mind about what I should say?!”

Rin scoffs in near disgust. “Who else is going to tell you that you have the potential to be incredible?! It sure as fuck ain’t you! I have always wanted to give you everything but I can’t so I push you to reach for what you want yourself because you _can!_ I’m sorry I’m pushy, I’m sorry I don’t always think before I speak, I really _am_ and I always wish I could be a better friend to you and Haru, a better brother to Gou, a better partner to Makoto, but _fuck!_ I’m not perfect!”

“Rin-”

“Shut the fuck _up,_ ” he screams, shoving his palms squarely into Sousuke’s chest and making him take a step back. “I’m not done! I’m sorry you went through a lot, I’m sorry you had to suffer it alone and I’m _especially_ sorry that it’s my fault that you felt you couldn’t come to me. I’ll take responsibility for that, I failed you there, and maybe if I were a better friend I would’ve noticed you were struggling. But _goddammit,_ your hard time is not an excuse to treat me like _shit!_ ”

Something in him gives way. Sousuke swallows the lump in his throat that’s trying to choke him. He can’t speak, he wouldn’t even know where to start if he could. Rin stands solid in front of him, his eyes are dry while Sousuke’s threaten to spill over. All the frustration and anger he’s been building towards Rin is smothered to guilt in a blink by just all the _hurt_ his friend looks at him with, and by how _very, very wrong_ Sousuke has been about this. 

“I honestly think you hate me, Sousuke.” It’s hoarse from yelling, making the delivery of it even harsher on Sousuke’s ears.

The fight in him leaves in a blink. He shakes his head slowly at first and then quicker as he processes what he’s hearing. “No, no, Rin, no, I don’t. I could never-” He chokes on the last syllable and covers his mouth for a moment to recompose. “ _Never,_ Rin,” he finishes boldly and clearly, standing up straight. Rin doesn't want his tears. He wants his friendship.

Rin lets out a shaky breath of relief and Sousuke realizes that after all this time, all this success, even with Makoto with him, when he’s shaken and unsure, Rin still sees himself as that little scared kid fighting for the approval and love of people that already gave it to him eons ago. 

Sousuke’s job as his best friend is to make Rin feel like he can take on anything, make him feel good about himself. What good is he to him causing insecurity and doubt like this? Letting anger drive his actions to the point where Rin thought he _hated him_ rather than having the rational fucking discussion that they should’ve had ages ago that would’ve set boundaries, set expectations? 

Sousuke sighs, suddenly exhausted, and yanks Rin to his chest and holds him there. “You’re right. And I’m sorry.”

Rin shakes his head where it’s fallen onto his shoulder. “I already know you are. And I’m sorry too. I should’ve made a better effort. I should’ve been there, and I should’ve found the courage to tell you sooner how I felt instead of pulling away and feeding you radio silence. I… if anything, I just… Sousuke, please talk to me again. _Please._ ”

He rubs Rin’s back for a moment, but it’s mostly for his own comfort. How _close_ did he just come to the point of no return? “I will.”

“ _Promise_ me, you fucker. I don’t want to have this fight for a third time in a few years,” he commands as he grabs at Sousuke’s shirt and twists. “We have to get it right this time. You have to try if I do. _You can’t keep things from me.”_

“I’ll get it right.” He releases Rin. 

“I don’t think any of what you said about you. After what you’ve been through? I look up to you. You’re my best friend, and you’re not a _failure,_ ” Rin repeats. “Don’t _ever_ think that. If I get too far up your ass about something, tell me to fuck off, and I will. It’s just because I want the world for you too, and I get fired up about it. You’re going find what you love regardless of me sticking my nose in it and you’re going to be so fucking happy, Sousuke, because you’re stubborn and so goddamn strong and you know you don’t deserve any of the shit that gets dumped on you. I know you won’t accept it.”

“I’m trying to believe all that,” Sousuke admits.

“Fine. Then _try harder,_ ” he says with a smirk.

Sousuke rolls his eyes and feels his nerves finally settle, adrenaline ebbing away. “All right. I’m exhausted Rin.”

“Yeah, yeah. One more thing. Okay, two more things. We can wrap the rest of our drama up another time with a calmer conversation because I think we still need to talk some of this out. But I _did_ actually want to tell you something while we were alone. Before we were so rudely interrupted by our own bullshit.” He pauses and grins to make sure Sousuke knows it’s a joke. 

“The Olympics next year is my last, given I get to go. I’ll hang on for a few more regular seasons after that, but I won’t stick around until I’m thirty for the next chance at gold. Even if I don’t medal, I still did pretty damn good in my opinion. Soon I’m going to want to live my life with Makoto full-time and go home. So onto the next dream, you know?”

Sousuke can only nod. It makes him feel empty to hear it, like he’s reached the top of some hill he’s been climbing and all that awaits him there is another challenge of flat, uncultivated land, but he understands. 

“And secondly, I’m gonna marry him before we go back. Find a courthouse or something here or Europe or whoever’ll do it for us. Just us, to say we’re legal in at least one country. This,” he says, holding up his hand with the ring, “is actually an engagement. We just want to keep it all private for now because it’s a ways off. That’s our choice. But I wanted to tell you _in person_ when I could because it’s important to me. So I didn’t tell you the fib about whatever the fuck a pre-engagement is. _I_ don’t even know what that is. There is no way I’m not going to wear this fucking ring every second of the day though so we had to make something up.”

His heart swells for his friend for what has to be the first time in years. Rin speaks with such a certain tone of _pride_ when he talks about Makoto. Affection threads through every single letter he sings of him. He doesn’t talk about anything or anyone else that way, and Sousuke hopes Makoto knows how damn good he has it to be in that position. “Good, Rin. That’s good.”

He smiles bashfully. “Yeah. Anyway, I wanted you to know first.”

Sousuke gives him a squeeze on the upper arm and starts walking back down the sidewalk to the hotel. “Throw a party at least when you come back? If I can’t go to your wedding I still want free alcohol.”

“Naturally,” Rin says with a laugh, walking alongside him.

For once they shut the fuck up for longer than a few minutes. Their relationship has always been one of many, _many_ words, unlike with Haruka where he can sit in silence with him and feel fulfilled or Gou where he can go long periods of time without speaking to her and pick up like nothing was left off. In the lobby, Sousuke’s about to retreat to his elevator when Rin grabs him one more time.

“Wait,” Rin calls.

_“Rin,”_ he whines. “Please I can barely stand. Tomorrow we can continue this.”

He shakes his head dismissively. “Why’d you come? I’m not _that_ stupid. I know Makoto had no idea either. He does this thing when he lies… anyway. You were pissed at me before ten minutes ago. It wasn’t for me.”

“You’re right,” Sousuke answers. “It wasn’t.” 

“Was it for Haru then?” He asks it seriously, his tone tempered and calm. Underneath the theatrics he puts on to make a good impression _this is Rin_ ; exceptionally mature and even. So Sousuke knows how genuine he’s being to ask it of him this way. 

“Yeah, at first it was for him.” Rin doesn’t look away, expecting Sousuke to talk like he promised. “But today I learned that he isn’t the one who needs me at all. He’s fine.”

Rin laughs in mild disbelief. “I don’t know how you guys got in touch, especially after I tried so hard to get you guys to talk at all for a while and you refused, but I get the feeling you see in him what I do now.” He pauses and narrows his eyes thoughtfully over Sousuke. “Look a little harder and you might see more.”

Sousuke barely smiles, knowing it doesn’t matter what he says if Rin’s already made up his mind. “See you tomorrow, Rin.”

Rin watches him go, and Sousuke waves him good night as the elevator doors shutter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iskabee @ tumblr


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruka Nanase’s Guide to Letting Go.

There are fewer things more relaxing than sprawling out over warm sand. The kind of warmth that reddens the skin and massages itself into the muscles and turns Haruka into a formless version of himself, unwilling to ever move again. 

He drifts in and out of consciousness despite the blare of the direct sun over him as well. He didn’t know how badly he needed this until he let a pathetic whimper escape him as soon as his bare back sunk into the heated granules.

His friends are far and away, he can barely hear them over the sound of the waves turning over the shore, lulling him deeper. Someone will appear and scold him eventually for not reapplying sunblock. He isn’t concerned with it, though.

Sousuke and Rin scream at each other from the water; that much occasionally carries over through his pseudo-dream state. Sousuke’s happiness is nice to hear for the first time. 

Sousuke upped and disappeared from their room for half an hour last night, and returned with a different air about him. He hovered over Haruka’s bed, and that’s the only reason he woke back up after his (loud) departure at all. Sousuke and Rin must have talked, finally, and were grown men enough to not need him or Makoto to pull them off of each other after all. Haruka didn’t notice any bruises on him this morning, anyway, or Rin once they met up.

Makoto has a few bruises, but Haruka suspects they’re of a different origin.

A gust of wind picks up one of their towels nearby and whips it over his face, startling him back to the surface. He sits up and grunts while he rubs a bit of sand out of his eye and then looks around to take stock of where his friends have drifted off to.

Makoto sits rooted at the water line in an old pair of yellow swim trunks with his feet dug into the soaked sand while Sousuke and Rin are deeper out, and look to be trying their damndest to drown each other. He watches Sousuke heave Rin nearly completely over his head while the other shouts and and flails before he’s thrown into the oncoming wave. Haruka laughs soundlessly and stands to join Makoto on the shore. 

If Sousuke and Rin can talk like adults, maybe it’s time for him to talk to Makoto. 

“Hey Haru,” he greets as Haruka sits down quietly next to him. “Have a nice nap?”

“Hm. It’s warm.”

“I’m sure you’re burnt but I couldn’t find it in me to disturb you.”

He shrugs. “A tan.”

Makoto smiles. “Yeah.”

“Makoto,” Haruka starts before his nerves try and stop him, “I think we should talk.”

Makoto answers by leaning on him ever so slightly, indicating even he knows a heavy discussion is inevitable now if he’s already seeking physical support before beginning it. “I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t try and stop Rin from springing this trip on you, but I really wanted to see you. I guess you figured that out.”

“Yeah,” Haruka answers. “I was upset at first, though.”

Makoto’s face twists in guilt. “I really am sorry, it was selfish of me.”

Haruka shakes his head slightly in dismissal. “I understand. I haven’t been very open with you lately.”

“How are you doing?”

Haruka leans back onto him. He’s missed this more than he can stand. By the end of this he knows he won’t be feeling it again for a while. “I’ve been better.”

Makoto lets out a little sigh. “I thought so. I just didn’t know how to ask.”

“I should’ve told you, but I don’t like to worry you. It isn’t bad, and I’ve been surviving since I got here.”

“...Haru.”

“It wasn’t worth upsetting you over. I made an appointment already for when I get back.”

Makoto hums in acknowledgement. “I trust you.” He digs his feet deeper in the sand and Haruka mimics him. “I hope you weren’t alone when it was bad.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Kisumi?”

Haruka angles his head to level an incredulous look at him. _“Really?”_

Makoto laughs. “Well it’s not like he isn’t a part of your life.”

“No, Makoto. Not Kisumi. That’s for when I’m in a good mood.”

Makoto nudges him in a pseudo-shove. “You’re salacious. Why am I the only one who knows it?”

Haruka huffs out a laugh. “Some people can keep it to themselves.” He emphasizes his point by reaching across himself and poking a discolored spot over Makoto’s collarbone.

Makoto groans and buries his face into his suddenly drawn up knees. _“Haru.”_

“It was Sousuke,” Haru answers seriously. “I ran into him. Literally. And it just went from there.”

Rin sloshes around in the chest-deep water ahead of them like he’s on some sort of hunt. Sousuke is nowhere to be found, and then Rin is yanked under with a yelp and replaced by him surfacing, grin triumphant. Makoto tenses against Haruka. 

“God that makes me nervous,” Makoto says with a sharp intake of breath. He stays rigid until Rin surfaces too a few beats later, then relaxes again. “He’s kept you company?” Makoto continues as if the short distraction never happened. 

Haruka nods. “My mood is unpredictable right now. My meds are off. I had that nightmare again. Some things I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with anymore resurfacing.”

Makoto only hones in on one thing, and Haruka’s convinced he didn’t even hear the rest. “You still don’t believe it right? What Rin says to you in that nightmare.”

“Of course not,” he makes sure he says with confidence.

“It scares me more than it scares you, I think,” Makoto confesses with a nervous, curt laugh.

“You didn’t abandon me, Makoto.”

No matter how many times he reassures Makoto of this, the other always looks so relieved to hear it. “It’s hard not to feel that way sometimes. Especially when you’re not at your best, when I wish I could be there and at least grill you some fish.”

“I can handle things now well enough to make it through the worst of my days. And I know you’ll answer if I call. I’m not worried.”

Sousuke jumps on Rin’s back and Rin grabs him by the arm with both hands and throws him forward over his shoulder in, what is to Haruka, an impressive display of Rin’s raw strength that he doesn’t get nearly enough credit for. Sousuke’s startled shout makes Haruka shake his head in a sudden surge of fondness for the two.

“So why Sousuke then?”

Haruka returns his attention to Makoto and thinks this might be a good of a time as they’ll get to broach their most sensitive topic, and that his question can wait. “Don’t you ever notice how you just… ignore what I say sometimes? You don’t get it.”

Makoto falls silent.

“I know you try to. And you did more than you know to help me get to this point. But sometimes you don’t get it.”

“Does Sousuke get it then?” Makoto asks weakly.

“On some levels, yes. On others, no. But this isn’t about him.”

Makoto makes a small, nearly inaudible, noise of frustration. “Well what does he fix that I couldn’t?”

Haruka takes a long breath through his nose to keep himself level. “This is why, Makoto. This is what I mean. It’s not about fixing anyone. I’m not your restoration project.”

“I know but-”

He pulls off of Makoto and half-turns to face him. “Do you really? Because I’ve told you this over and over and you’re still saying it. I know it’s second nature to you to try and fix things for me but this isn’t one of those things and I desperately need you to understand the difference before it hurts us irreparably.”

Makoto recoils away from him ever so slightly. Haruka has never been able to put it into words exactly this way, and this is the first time he’s been able to tell Makoto directly that their relationship is suffering the way it’s going right now. “I don’t want to lose you, Makoto. I’m terrified enough of it happening to be able to speak to you this directly about it and even then it’s taken me an entire year to figure out what to say.”

“I _can’t_ lose you, Haru,” Makoto rectifies. 

“You’re going to the way this is going,” he blurts out. He didn’t want to deliver it so harshly. He didn’t mean to, and he didn’t even know he was capable of stringing those words together in that order. But he couldn’t stop himself. He doesn’t know how Makoto is going to react to this. It could even make him angry. But he needs to know. “That’s why I’m talking to you. We’ve been growing apart for a while and I want it to stop but some things have to change for that.”

Makoto bites down on his lip and looks out to the ocean. He looks near to panic, like he’s going to jump to his feet at any moment and run.

“I want to be open about my progress because it only complicates things when I’m not honest with you. I’ve been lying to you a lot because I just don’t have the energy to let it roll off my shoulders when you blame me like you do when I’m hurting, pressure me, ignore everything that I need you to hear. I want to tell you when I’m struggling and I want to tell you when I’m happy. But you have to change how you think about me and my depression for that to happen.”

“I don’t _understand_ how to do that, Haru. _I don’t know what to do,_ ” Makoto answers harriedly. He buries his hands in his hair on either side of his head and pulls his legs in tighter to his chest.

Haruka is starting to worry Makoto is going to shut down on him and close off if the distress in his voice is any indication of how _close_ he is to doing so. Haruka has never spoken this much to him about this. If he were in Makoto’s position, he’d be overwhelmed, but he keeps going. He has faith in his friend. “I need _something_ to come of this conversation,” he warns in an attempt to get Makoto back from the edge. “I can’t go home not having made progress with you or we’re not going to make it.”

Makoto nods stiffly, laces his fingers together over his knees, and draws a shaky breath. He’s quiet for a long time- at least five minutes- but it doesn’t feel like he’s withdrawing. He looks pensive, his mouth is drawn tight and his eyebrows are pulling so low it has to be giving him a small headache by the time he nods very minutely and lets his face relax. When he speaks his voice is small, but he doesn’t stutter or stumble.“When I get back to Sydney I’ll have Rin help me get into counseling. He can come with me and help translate... If that’s all right with you. I can go alone and bring a dictionary if you don’t want him there. Either way I’ll go as long as I need to.”

Makoto has in no uncertain terms _refused_ this approach in the past. He didn’t even beat around the bush with it as he does with most things, he simply told Haruka _no_ and changed the subject. He’d been denied so soundly that Haruka stopped even thinking of it as something that existed as a resource, for the sake of his love for Makoto. It was too dark to think that it was the the one thing Makoto wouldn’t do for him. Makoto never likes it when anyone tries to hold a mirror to him. 

“You will?”

Makoto nods. He doesn’t look reluctant or regretful for having said it, merely resolute. “You’re right. I don’t get it. If I did then you wouldn’t have to give me an ultimatum. I won’t lose you. I’d never forgive myself. So I will learn, and I will be a good friend to you.”

Haruka knows enough about Makoto to believe that when he says he will do something, he can consider it underway. But Haruka has learned these things take time. It doesn’t repair them right away. It doesn’t repair them at all, actually, until Makoto’s able to slowly let go of the part of him that keeps Haruka quiet and Haruka learns to trust Makoto again after he does. Only then can Haruka even consider that they might be moving forward.

He faces back out to their friends now floating around calmly on their backs, latched together like a pair of otters, presumably having their own discussion, and nudges up against Makoto again. “That means a lot to me.”

“It means a lot that you spoke to me like this, too,” Makoto replies. “Thank you, Haru.”

Haruka acknowledges him with a hum and moves to end the conversation with the part he’s been dreading the most and trying to think of the least, but knows now after this conversation that it has been a long time coming when he looks back over the last few years of their relationship. Makoto tenses against him again, sensing that he isn’t done. “I think when I get back to Japan… we should take a break. To focus on ourselves for a little while. We both have work to do to be able to move past this, and I think we’ll only hinder each other by staying in contact until we’re ready.”

Makoto clears his throat just once and Haruka lets him excuse it away as the sand on the breeze irritating his sinuses. He drops his head onto Haruka’s shoulder and starts to hum a low tune that Haruka recognizes from their early childhood as a short song about mockingbirds Makoto’s mother used to sing to them when Haruka slept over.

Makoto hums the melody a few times in a loop, each pass over sounding quieter than the one before it, coming to terms with Haruka’s request in his own way. “I agree,” he whispers, and it’s nearly folded into the waves churning in front of them.

The sun is touching the horizon when Rin and Sousuke finally stand up in the wake and turn to face him and Makoto. Rin smiles wide with a dual-armed wave and Sousuke just holds Haruka’s gaze and asks a million questions at once with it that Haruka silences with his own. “To answer your question from before,” he murmurs softly to Makoto, “I just like him.”

-

“Haruka, mind if I get a shower first tonight?” Sousuke asks passively once they’ve retreated to their rooms for the night after a beach-side dinner of seafood, a long stroll down the boardwalk, and a lazy, quiet bus ride back. “Since I was in the water and not you. Somehow. Are you sick by the way?”

“Sure,” he answers tiredly without acknowledging the rest.

He sits on the edge of his bed in wait since he’s covered in sand and doesn’t need to get it on his sheets, but it’s hard to sit upright. It took a lot of his energy to confront Makoto like that, and he put on a show of engagement over dinner that spent him further. 

Haruka hears a muffled curse from the bathroom and a tumbling of bottles and his shoulders bounce in amusement. That shower is not built for someone as large as Sousuke. Even Haruka’s been slamming his elbows into the walls. 

He thinks he’s alert and awake with these thoughts until he jolts upright at the sound of the door opening and realizes he nodded off. Sousuke steps out, adjusting the waistband on a different pair of pants than the ones he’s been wearing, and runs a hand through his damp hair to push it out of the way. “Hey sleepy, sure you got energy for a shower?”

Haruka makes a noncommittal grunt and pushes to his feet to get a shower before he physically can’t make himself take one, a limit that he’s very quickly approaching. In the small stall he sighs and sits and lets the water run over his head and shoulders for a while. A long while actually, as Sousuke eventually raps on the door.

“You okay?” he asks through the wood with a degree of trepidation.

“Yeah,” Haruka calls back as he stands back up. He hurries through the rest of the shower and half-heartedly tries to dry his hair before giving up on it and opting to get into his pajamas instead. In the room Sousuke is dozing on his bed and Haruka steps out in a towel to retrieve his clothing, which is actually really annoying to have to do when he’s lived alone for as long as he has, and quickly gets dressed before collapsing over his blanket without bothering to move it out of the way.

“Rin’s race is tomorrow,” Sousuke reminds him.

“Hm.”

“...You gonna feel up to going?”

His heart stops for what feels like a solid minute in his chest. He wonders at what point during the evening Sousuke noticed he was trending downhill. “I’m going to try,” he answers.

“Let me know if I can do anything, all right?”

Haruka turns and faces the petunias. “I made it two days,” he says at the crevice between the wall and bed.

“And you’ll have made it four by the time we’re on the plane again,” Sousuke answers.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, and I stand by what I said.”

Haruka traces the shapes of the texture on the wall with an index finger and looks for images within. “I’m not always like this,” he suddenly feels like he needs to say. “I was normal for a while... up until a few weeks ago.”

“Do you want a speech about the sort of damage that language does? I mean I’m pretty beat but I could probably whip up something convincing.” His tone borders on scolding but Haruka knows it’s his way of being gentle.

“No,” he sighs. “I know. I just need some sleep.” 

“Good.”

He can’t find any images in the texture and stops looking. “Sousuke.”

“Hm?”

_I told Makoto I needed a break_  
_I hope you and Rin are okay_  
_I’m glad you’re in my life too_

“Do we have any waters left?”

There’s a shuffle from his bed and a curse. “I forgot to grab more. I’ll be right back.” Haruka flinches when the door closes behind him and everything he didn’t say is reburied. He needs to let this pass so he can watch Rin swim. That’s important to him. There will be other times to talk when it won’t make this worse.

“You want it on the table?” Sousuke asks upon his return. 

Haruka blindly stretches his arm back behind himself as an answer and Sousuke hands him the bottle that way. He rolls it to the wall and reaches back again and waits. There’s an unzipping of his bag after about thirty seconds of Sousuke processing the request and a rattle of pills before one is dropped onto his palm. He takes it without a word, rolls the water bottle back to the wall, and curls up to try and sleep.

“Wait a sec,” Sousuke requests. “Lift your legs.” This is a difficult task considering he’s on his side, but he sort of gets his knees up anyway. Sousuke yanks the comforter out from under him and throws it over him gracelessly. “I feel like a furnace because of this sunburn so I’m cranking the air down tonight. Throw something at me if it’s too cold and I’ll turn it off, though.”

The lamp switches off. Haruka doesn’t jump in surprise when Sousuke leans over and puts a hand on his shoulder, either because he was somehow expecting it or because he wanted it to happen and was already imagining it. An up and down sweep of his thumb and a gentle, quick squeeze from his fingers and it’s gone. On Haruka’s next exhale, he sleeps.

-

“Haruka.”

He grunts.

“I got you the ‘thing with the raisins.’”

He reaches backwards.

“No, get up. We have to go soon but you should eat first.”

Right, Rin’s race. He sits up and brings the water bottle with him that hasn’t moved in the night and makes sure the comforter is around his shoulders as he turns and faces Sousuke. Thier room is still freezing.

Sousuke chokes on a small laugh. “You didn’t dry your hair before you slept. You should see yourself.”

“Shut up,” Haruka mumbles groggily, taking the offered plate. 

Sousuke sits across from him on his bed. “How you feeling?”

“Better. I was really tired last night. It didn’t help.” He starts to eat at the bagel by tearing small pieces off.

“Seemed like you and Tachibana were having a pretty intense chat yesterday.”

“It sort of wore me out,” Haruka confirms. “Emotionally, anyway.”

“Did you make progress with whatever it was?” Sousuke rips off the top of a sealed container of cereal and starts to eat it dry. He can tell Sousuke’s nearly physically restraining himself not to pry for more information, but he’s still not ready. He doesn’t want to relive any of that right now.

“I think so.” 

Sousuke hums thoughtfully over the loud crunch. “Well I have a sun poisoning excuse lined up and ready if you want to stay in.”

He shakes his head. “I can go. Maybe not stay out long, but at least for the race.”

“Damn. I was proud of that one,” Sousuke jokes. He twists and reaches for his own water on the table and Haruka sees he’s wearing his brace under his shirt when the edge peeks out of his collar.

“Manhandle Rin for too long yesterday?”

Sousuke freezes for half a second on his pull back to center, but recovers his composure. “Sure did. You can see it? I better wear something over my shirt then or Rin’ll bitch. No point in getting him upset the last full day we’re here. Thanks for letting me know.”

“You’re welcome. I guess.”

“I just have to keep it supported until I can get to my physical therapist for a proper scolding and a violent, tear-inducingly painful work-up. My fault. It happens sometimes.”

“Idiot,” Haruka mumbles over a bite. He had to have known throwing Rin around for over an hour wasn’t going to end well for him.

“No one shits on me as much as I do for it, Haruka, so don’t worry. Got you covered.”

“Rin should’ve known better too,” he persists. If they still needed to work through things, they could’ve just as easily have done it without putting Sousuke in two or more solid days of pain before he could get his shoulder worked on. 

Sousuke rubs at the back of his neck and sighs. “Some things are more important to me than the number of days I can stretch between P.T. appointments.” 

Haruka swallows and takes a drink of water and turns his words around with consideration. Maybe he was right. What the hell _does_ Haruka know about Sousuke and Rin, as a set? About as much as Sousuke knows about him and Makoto, he figures, and that isn’t much. Still though, this display of hyper-masculinity is lost on him. “...Idiot.”

Sousuke flicks a piece of cereal at him and it bounces off his hand. “You’re light enough for me to lift still, so don’t talk shit.”

“Where will you throw me this time if I do? We’re not in the vicinity of an emergency exit or a big enough trash can,” he teases.

Sousuke hums in a mock-pensiveness. “Well, we _are_ on the fourth floor and there _is_ a window.”

“Do it,” he challenges. “The pool’s down there. Just don’t miss.”

Sousuke stands and rolls his head from side to side and laughs when Haruka pulls his blanket around himself tighter. “Come on, I’ve barely ever touched you,” he says. “I wouldn’t throw you out of or into anything.”

“Oh, no, It’s just because I don’t have my swimsuit on.”

That makes Sousuke laugh harder and Haruka finds himself huffing in amusement, as well as faint embarrassment over his reaction. 

Sousuke heaves his suitcase onto his bed as his laugh dies down and flips open the top to rifle through it. “This one or this one?” he asks, holding up two green collared shirts on either side of him.

“I have no idea,” Haruka mutters. “They look the same.”

“They’re not,” Sousuke says with a small pout. “This is green and this is blue,” he continues holding each one out as he identifies it.

“They’re both green to me. There’s barely a difference.”

“Aren’t you an artist?”

He refrains from throwing the nearest tossable object at Sousuke’s head, because he’d like to finish his water. “The left one.”

“Think so?” Sousuke holds them both out to see for himself. “...Nah. Blue.”

Haruka has a series of questions threatening to secure his short flight out the window. Why did Sousuke bring so many clothes for a four day trip is the first on the list, and why would Sousuke ask him when he’s clearly worn nothing but t-shirts every day for the last five years, approximately, would be the next. For the sake of wanting to get to Rin’s race on time, as much as he’d enjoy the swim, he keeps it to himself.

“Go fix your fucking hair,” Sousuke laughs, pulling his arms through the sleeves of the button up. He leaves it open, but the collar of it sufficiently covers the edges of his brace that isn’t covered by his shirt.

Haruka sighs and finally gets himself off the bed and into the bathroom. His hair isn’t _that_ bad. He’s seen worse. He combs it down, washes his face, and brushes his teeth and at least _looks_ half a presentable human being again. 

They leave tomorrow night. He’s almost there. He feels good enough to watch Rin swim. Things could be worse.

He goes to dress himself in silence while Sousuke loafs from his bed, playing some game on his phone. No comments about his underwear today, and Haruka idly wonders if he could get away without the stupid towel tonight.

“Yamazaki,” he calls boredly, “this one or this one?” He holds up today’s shirt and tomorrow’s shirt, both black with stripes of only slightly different width.

“Ha-fucking-ha,” Sousuke answers without looking up long from his phone.

There’s an excited knock at their door out of nowhere and Rin yelling through it. Haruka pulls his shirt down (the one with the marginally thinner stripes) and opens it for him.

“I can’t go with you, I gotta meet up with my team, so take Makoto! Be thankful, everyone else is bummed he won’t be on the bus,” he greets with Makoto popping up behind him. 

“You seem excited,” Haruka observes sarcastically.

“Uh, I get to swim for you guys? Hello? But I gotta run! See you in a few hours! Sousuke!”

“Whaaaat?” he grouses from the bed.

“I better hear you, I know you got a big fuckin’ mouth!”

“Fine,” he agrees easily.

Rin grins and turns to Makoto, grabs his face with two hands and pulls him into a quick kiss. “See ya!”

“We’ll cheer for you!” Makoto half-calls after him as he runs back down the hall. He turns to Haruka and smiles while shaking his head. “Ready, Haru?”

“Hm,” he answers. He wonders when their conversation will start feeling real to more than just him. For the sake of having a nice day, perhaps Makoto just wants to forget it for now. He can’t disagree with that.

Sousuke swings his legs over the bed while he groans with exaggeration. He stands and yawns and joins the two.

“That’s a nice green,” Makoto compliments, gesturing to his shirt.

Sousuke shoots Haruka a look. “Don’t fucking la-”

He’s already looking away with his lips pressed tight, but it holds back nothing.

-

The sight of the pool forces the air from his lungs. Sousuke stops in his tracks as well.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve been to one of these types of races, huh?” Makoto asks Haruka, though it’s just as easily addressed to Sousuke. “Come with me, I’m hoping the team staff will let us all sit up front. I don’t think it’s going to be a full stadium.”

They follow Makoto wordlessly until he motions for them to wait and runs ahead to speak to some uniformed team members. Haruka keeps his eyes on the water. These pools never fail to stun him into silence. 

He hasn’t watched Rin swim in a few months. The last time being around Rin’s birthday when Haruka flew himself out to Australia for it. That had been bad, because he’d actually swam an official race in that pool once, and being on the other side of the guardrails left him feeling small and insignificant while Rin whooped and yelled with his team at a distance. Still despite the feelings inadequacy, Haruka had been relieved to see Rin just as enthusiastic as ever. He would blame himself if Rin’s swimming faltered because of Haruka’s withdrawal from competition.

Near the end of his career, the final two months or so, his times weren’t even qualifying him to swim in practice races against other national teams. He was a benchwarmer. The few sponsors he’d managed to bag had fired him, his teammates were pulling away from him, and his nights ended in nervous breakdowns in cold bath water more often than they didn’t. 

He’ll never forget the look on Rin’s face from where he was at on the sideline as he scanned Japan’s starting swimmers filing out to stretch on the deck at a competition in Italy and didn’t see Haruka among them. And that was it. After he returned home from that race, at the end of the summer nearly exactly two years ago, he finally called Makoto because he had no one else. He quit the team unceremoniously a week later, broke the lease on his apartment, and moved in with Makoto within days. 

He never knows how to describe what he feels when he sees these pools. Sometimes it almost feels like longing, but that’s not quite right. After all that, he doesn’t want to swim in one of these ever again. But the feeling isn’t entirely negative either. Something somewhere between mourning and nostalgia. 

With everything that’s happened to him, he could never bring himself to resent swimming. Even at his lowest he knew attributing his grief to it wasn’t fair. As much as he blamed himself and lashed out at Makoto, Rin, his parents, whoever was in his sights at first, it was no one or nothing’s fault. A lot of things made it worse, and so much could’ve been prevented if any of them- him, Makoto, or Rin- had any idea what they were dealing with, but no one deliberately did it to him. 

It was only his lot, but perhaps that was the most devastating thing of all, and the most difficult part to come to terms with.

He pulls his attention from the water at the sound of Makoto’s return. “I won them over! I think,” Makoto says with a pull to one side of his mouth. “I don’t think they knew what I was asking for. Anyway, let’s get a good seat for this. The U.S. team is very good; you’ll want to see this.”

They take their seats and slowly the rows around them fill up too. Not totally full, as it’s only a practice race, but a surprisingly robust turnout nonetheless. There are two other team trickling out of the locker room as well; England and South Korea at a glance. Sousuke is still staring out over the water; Haruka’s not sure if he ever looked away. Unlike Haruka, Sousuke never even got a chance to decide if he liked swimming professionally or not. He wonders what Sousuke is thinking about looking over the type of pool he’s never swam in, and never will.

As if feeling the eyes on him, Sousuke blinks a few times and and looks over at Haruka, and he’s anything but dejected or sad. He’s excited and his eyes are bright. “It’s pretty cool, huh? I haven’t been able to see Rin swim with the team in person in years, and never this close,” he comments with a sort of childlike enthusiasm.

Haruka finds himself with a ghost of a smile in response, which Sousuke raises with a wide and unhindered one of his own, and Haruka comes to a conclusion about him. Sousuke doesn’t care about the pool. It doesn’t hurt him to know he won’t be on the other side of this guardrail. He only ever cared about Rin being on the other side. He only feels happiness, joy- anticipation, even- while he stares at it, knowing Rin is about to make it all his own and put his soul into every movement. Sure he would’ve loved to have been there with him, but even Sousuke’s moved on from that, at least.

Since Haruka doesn’t know what he feels when he looks at the pool, he decides Sousuke won’t mind if he borrows his perspective on it for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of this SouRin/MakoHaru side-plotting has a _very_ SouHaru reason. We're only in LA for one more chapter and then it's like a sort of soft end to ~part 1~. I'll at least tell you that. ;0
> 
> iskabee @ tumblrz


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin sees a sight he’s never seen before. Makoto is where he needs to be. Sousuke tries to keep his head above water. Haru submerges himself in it.

Sousuke draws in a deep breath and lets it out in the form of a shout, bellowing as loud as he can with his hands bracing him over the railing. Makoto’s standing on the bottom bar, hands framing his mouth and trunk tensed to keep him upright while he tries to drown out Sousuke, the team, and the stands all at once. He might succeed, Sousuke admits. He tries to cheer louder on the next go round. 

Haruka’s hopped to his feet as well, though he’s only leaning forward slightly with his arms locked straight in unbroken focus on the race in front of them.

Rin swims immaculately. He was good in high school. He was better in college. Here, he’s _perfect._ He swims butterfly leagues above what Sousuke could ever have expected from himself, and beyond the limits of what he thought Rin was capable of. 

He takes the turn and pushes off with a sizeable lead, trailed only by his own teammate. For an unofficial race, the stands are in a disproportionate uproar over it. Rin’s ability to command a crowd like this is nothing short of astounding to Sousuke. Rin slams his hand onto the plaster and no one needs to look at a board to see that he’s won. His team sprints over and pulls him and their close second teammate out of the pool and rally around them in congratulations. 

Sousuke and Makoto heave a little bit, winded from their cheering as they sit back down. 

“He’ll swim freestyle too. One and two hundred,” Makoto informs them. 

Sousuke whistles low. “Back to back?”

“Yes. I’d be so winded. I don’t know why he likes it,” Makoto says with exasperation. 

“So what’s the deal with you? You travel with the team but don’t do anything?” Sousuke asks. If no one’s going to tell him, he’s going to be nosey.

Makoto seems surprised that he’s being addressed. “Oh, well, technically I’m on the roster. I don’t swim with the team though. Just a silly loophole Rin exploi- uhm, took advantage of that he somehow got team administration to agree to. I have no idea how and I’m not sure I want to know. I have a working visa. Australian immigration is surprisingly strict and I didn’t want to become a citizen, so. I help coach backstroke, but not in any commanding capacity. Just keep an eye on the swimmers and offer my advice or observations to the actual head coach. I mean, it is my degree so I’m not totally useless. Just mostly useless,” he finishes with a depreciative laugh. 

Haruka chimes in. “He coaches entire practices. Don’t listen to him.”

“Haru,” Makoto whines. “I do not. I have as a last minute substitute once or twice, that’s all.”

“They appreciate your input. You are part of the team. Don’t sell yourself so short.”

“Rin must be proud of that,” Sousuke teases.

Makoto is burning up and Sousuke thinks he might even break into a sweat. “Stop, _please,_ ” he begs. “It isn’t anything.”

Sousuke drops it to keep the peace. He’d personally be pretty proud of elbowing his way into a position like that. But him and Tachibana are significantly different people and Sousuke figures if Makoto were to win the Nobel Peace Prize he’d dismiss it away as nothing, so this probably isn’t a cause worth rallying behind. 

One of the team staff walks closer and waves Makoto over, so he rises to meet him and Sousuke is left with Haruka. He’s quiet. Sousuke thinks of asking if he’s okay, but it’s probably a stupid thing to ask considering Haruka already has an entire hand of “I’m fine” cards ready to play. This is hardly the environment to get personal in. 

So he thinks to the flight home. He’s ready to leave. This ended up being a more emotionally taxing trip than he thought it was going to be. He wanted to be in the background for Haruka and otherwise stay there but he’d ended up dramatically transforming the dynamics of his relationships with all three of them, straining his shoulder, and now cheering until his voice goes hoarse for Rin. In no time at all. That’s a lot of activity for one guy in seventy-two hours. 

A guy that suddenly remembers he has no job or much of anything else at all waiting for him back home. Ah well, at least in that sense, the distraction was nice while it lasted. He’s somehow not as distraught as he should be at this point.

He relaxes through the next few races Rin isn’t involved in. Makoto returns at some point from his conversation and sits down to rest as well.

“We’re going out with some of the team after this,” he reveals. “Dinner. You both are welcome to join, of course. I hope you do.”

“Sure, Makoto,” Haruka answers without hesitation. 

Does he even want to know what’s going through Haruka’s head to agree to something like that after he told Sousuke not two hours ago that he’d likely only be in the mood for the race and nothing else? Probably not.

There’s a wave of cheering signalling the start of the freestyle and Sousuke shelves this headache to return to later. The swimmers take their blocks and roll their heads and pull their arms crossbody in a last minute warmup. The intercom asks them to take their places and the charged silence cuts across the space in anticipation of the chime. 

It hardly takes ten seconds for him and Makoto to glue themselves back to the metal railing in an uproar. This is a closer race; Rin’s front crawl is amazing but the others are just as good. He takes second in one-hundred meters and Sousuke’s throat is no less thrashed over it by the end.

The two-hundred meter starts after a few minutes and hardly any break. Rin returns to the block.

“He’s better at this,” Makoto says excitedly. “He’s trained really hard for this distance.”

With the chime they’re off. Even from this level to the side Rin is highly visible. It isn’t as explosive of a race due to the need to pace, but the burn makes it nearly intolerable to watch. Haruka appears at his side suddenly, between him and Makoto, even though for the one-hundred he had remained seated. On the second turn the crowd grows raucous, and the lead falls and is reclaimed by Rin and one of the American swimmers interchangeably. The Americans which comprise the majority of the crowd are roaring, and Makoto and Sousuke take it as a personal challenge to make sure Rin hears them over the rest.

They shout for him. They’re leaning over the bars and Sousuke’s putting everything into it. Makoto grabs Sousuke’s sleeve behind Haruka's back to steady himself as he leans further and Sousuke’s right there with him. 

On the final turn Rin has the lead by what looks to be nothing more than a hair’s width to Sousuke’s eyes and everyone is bouncing around in their seats and throwing themselves at railings as well. 

_“RI-N!”_

_“FUCKING SWIM!”_

Rin slaps the edge and it isn’t immediately apparent if he won. All three of them snap to the board along with the rest of the crowd and wait the fraction of a second before it’s revealed.

Sousuke mindlessly shoves himself between Makoto and Haruka in unchecked excitement and grabs them both by their wrists and pumps his arms up straight in victory, shoulder be damned (but damn did that hurt). “ _Fuck_ yeah!”

Makoto laughs elatedly and yells again for Rin as he gets out of the pool with the other teams. Rin looks over to the three of them, either hearing Makoto somehow or just knowing where they were seated the entire time, with their arms raised high for him, and Sousuke can see him gasp from where he’s standing and stop in his tracks. Sousuke drops their arms and Rin looks between all three of them with all of the happiness Sousuke figures exists in the world. He smiles wide, and if Sousuke were closer he could confirm he was crying, but at best it’s a guess from this distance. The one thing he does know though is that he can feel Rin’s elation radiating off of him even from here. In another moment he’s swallowed up and swept away by his ecstatic team and the three of them are left with racing hearts and fond eyes. 

He glances to Makoto who looks like he’s fallen in love for the first time again and then to Haruka who smiles wider than Sousuke honestly thought he could as he watches Rin being ushered into the locker room. This is the first time all three of Rin’s closest people stood together and cheered for him. Even if it was just a pointless practice race. It makes Sousuke almost chokes up a little on his friend’s behalf. He can hardly fathom the feeling of a sight like that.

“He’s amazing.” Makoto _is_ choked up.

“Sap,” Sousuke teases lightheartedly. 

Makoto laughs. “Can you blame me?”

Sousuke sighs and concedes to him, if only because Makoto deserves a little understanding from him now that he’s half-way been able to pull his head from his own ass regarding Rin. “No, I guess not.”

“I’ll never get tired of seeing it,” Makoto gushes further.

He waves Makoto away playfully. “All right, all right, take it up with Rin because you’re giving me cavities.”

Makoto beams at him anyway before turning back and looking out over the pool area one more time as the teams reconvene for other events.

Haruka looks between them both, and Sousuke doesn’t miss it. His shoulders slump ever so slightly in a relieved sort of way and Sousuke can see him mentally file some folder away for good. He takes that to mean whatever was left of the small hatchet Sousuke tried to bury with Makoto two days ago is now completely underground. 

“Oh! I’ll be right back!” Makoto sprints off towards someone in a sport jacket down the row.

“He’s energetic and popular,” Sousuke observes.

“He is. This will be the best thing he ever did for himself. He just doesn’t know it yet,” Haruka says frankly. “He’s happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

Sousuke nods in acknowledgement but doesn’t have much to offer on it in terms of his own observation or conjecture. “Are you really all right with dinner?”

“It’ll be fine.”

“Just making sure.”

“I won’t see them for a while,” Haruka adds. “I just want to make sure I’m really sick of them by the time we leave. This should be more than sufficient.”

Sousuke snorts. “Masochist, really.”

Haruka side eyes him. “Speaking of, how’s the shoulder? That victory pose couldn’t have felt good.”

“Yeah it hurt like a bitch actually,” he laughs. “Sort of got excited.”

Haruka draws out a long, impatient sigh. “You need to be more careful.”

“Sure, dad,” Sousuke jokes.

Haruka faces him. “I’m serious, Sousuke. If you don’t care about it, at least know that I do.” He holds Sousuke’s eyes with his own, boring right into him, until Sousuke finally needs to look away to get his pulse back down to baseline. Haruka is intense when he wants to be.

“Sure, sorry,” he attempts to diffuse. “Bad habit.”

“I like swimming with you. So you should take better care of it.” He turns back around with the end of it, and Makoto comes back as well with endless chatter that only registers as white noise to him about whatever he took off to do. 

They stay and watch the remainder of the events since Rin won’t be free until the rest of the team is, but Sousuke can’t claim to say he pays much attention to any of it.

-

“Cheers, mate!” Rin laughs and toasts his drink to another teammate that did well in the eight-hundred meter.

“Matsuoka it sounds ridiculous coming from you!”

“You make me listen to it all day!” he yells back at him. “So deal with it!”

Sousuke arranges his pizza crusts in straight lines on his plate, well on his way to tuning all of this out because it’s been going on for _ages._

“‘Koto!” another teammate calls.

“Yes?” Makoto answers.

“C’mere and let me get a picture‘a the two of ya!”

Makoto groans but leans in towards Rin anyway. Sousuke has heard this request no fewer than ten times. 

A clear plastic drinking straw enters his line of vision and shoves all of his crusts into a disarray. He glares up at Haruka seated across from him, who has deftly hidden the offensive implement and only looks back at him a little too innocently. 

Turns out Haruka’s plan for dealing with all of Rin’s team at once was to simply deny he knew English and threaten to out Rin’s nickname to his entire team if he so much as hinted he knew any at all.

Sousuke snorts to himself. _RinRin._ How could he forget?

He checks his phone. They’ve been at this pizza parlour for three fucking hours and Rin’s still bouncing off the walls. Before he’s able to put it back in his pocket, the screen lights up.

_want to leave?_

Unknown sender. He carefully raises his eyes to Haruka and wonders when he got his number. Sensing the question, Haruka only shrugs and gestures towards Makoto’s phone sitting prone and unguarded on the table. Sneaky guy.

_very badly._ he answers. 

Haruka leans over to Makoto and gets his attention. He says something quietly and Makoto nods then says something in return. Haruka gestures to Sousuke and Makoto nods again.

“Our friends need to leave,” Makoto says to the teammates immediately around him. Rin picks up from there for him.

“So say goodbye and try and be polite, would you?”

They offer their waves and their “nice to meet you”s and Sousuke waves awkwardly back. Haruka blinks doe eyes in feigned ignorance. Sousuke tries really hard not to laugh at his exaggerated display of helpless foreigner. It even looks practiced, and Sousuke wouldn’t be surprised if it were. 

“Come here,” Rin commands in Japanese so Haruka can’t pretend. “I want a picture before you go. All four of us and _do not whine Sousuke_ I see it queued up on your face already.”

Sousuke sighs but obliges, rising to go around the table and stand behind Rin, then bends to be more at his head level. Haruka does as he’s requested without fuss and stands behind Makoto with the same tilt. The path of least resistance to get out of here.

Rin hands his teammate his phone and asks him to take it. Makoto crowds into Rin’s side for the umpteenth time that night and Sousuke and Haruka try their damndest to look like they want to be taking this photo. It results in two half smiles, which is one full smile if you ask Sousuke, and is good enough.

Makoto and Rin then rise to walk them out. “Sorry Sousuke,” Makoto says, “I didn’t know you were intolerant to tomatoes… though you didn’t have to eat that much just to make us happy. Haru says you need a bathroom nearby for the night. There was a convenience sto-”

He’s interrupted by a loud, unattractive snort from Rin, who looks like he’s going to stroke out from how hard he’s suddenly holding in his laugh. Haruka maintains his angelically innocent face when Sousuke tries to scowl him into another dimension.

“What?” Makoto pouts.

Rin finally laughs, oh so very obnoxiously. “He isn’t allergic, Makoto, they just want to call it a night.” 

“Oh.” He looks sternly at Haruka. “That was mean, Haru. You could’ve just said that.”

Haruka shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That is exactly what I said.”

“Haru!” Makoto sighs. “Anyway. We leave early afternoon tomorrow. So let’s meet up and get lunch? Not sure we will have time for anything more interesting.”

“Gotta say, I’m fine with ending on something normal,” Sousuke responds. He’s not sure if he can in good faith take much more of anything exciting. They all agree, thankfully.

“We’ll walk back,” Haruka informs Makoto. “Have fun.”

Makoto and Rin wave them off and they start back towards the hotel. It’s only about a ten minute walk in one direction and Sousuke could use the fresh air after all that anyway. Haruka visibly deflates as soon as Makoto and Rin retreat back into the restaurant. 

“Finally sick of them now?” Sousuke asks.

“Sick of _everything,_ ” Haruka mutters tiredly.

“You didn’t have to bust your ass like that,” Sousuke pushes. “We didn’t have to go to dinner. You’ve put more than enough energy into them already. And you really don’t have to pretend around me.” 

“I want them to have good memories of this. And you? I just like to annoy you.”

“Well they should understand.”

“One day they will. But it’s not worth a fight now. And I don’t have the energy to argue about it with you either,” Haruka snaps irritably. 

Sousuke reluctantly backs off and the remainder of their walk is tense and silent.

He can be taught after all, and makes sure he remembers to pick up two more water bottles for them on their way through the lobby. Haruka’s suddenly learned how to walk quickly, as he can’t seem to get back to their room fast enough. Once they key in, he simply throws himself onto his bed without bothering with anything else other than his shoes. 

It’s still early for Sousuke and he can take a hint; Haruka wants to be left alone. His shoulder is, as reluctant as he is admit it to himself, wrecked and done and not getting any better until he can see someone to help him get it loosened up. There aren’t many places for him to go to get out of Haruka’s hair since he doesn’t feel like sleeping yet. Then he remembers that hot tub Makoto wouldn’t shut up about. It may be late summer, but the breeze on the walk home was cool enough and the idea of nearly insufferable heat on his strained tendons and muscle is suddenly an irresistible opportunity. 

He brought his suit, because even when he wasn’t sure what the fuck this trip was going to turn into, he still knew Haruka’s reputation. Though curiously, Haruka’s only contact with water this week came solely out of necessity. He gets dressed into the suit as quietly as he can even though Haruka’s likely not sleeping and merely glued to the wall in silence. He gathers up a towel, a water bottle, his keycard, and his phone and goes to leave.

“I’ll have my phone, I guess you can text me now if you need anything,” he says with his departure. 

The pool has a few guests in it, but the hot tub is all his. He throws his stuff down so it’s all within reach and lowers himself into it, holding back what would probably be considered an inappropriate noise when he leans to the side to submerge himself up to his neck. He breathes out some of the tension and pain that’s been pooling there since the day prior and it’s just relieving enough to give his teeth a reprieve from the constant grind he’s put them through all day to beat back the throbbing. He leans back to rest his head on the edge at that angle. It’s awkward but at the same time it’s also the most physically comfortable he’s been on this entire trip.

His thoughts drift naturally to Haruka, who at least for Sousuke is the center of this little side-stint considering he’s to blame for it. They sort of jumped into this as only half-way comfortable acquaintances. He’s not sure what to expect when they go back to Tokyo even though they’re coming out of the other side of it as friends. Sousuke will go and find another job to get by on at least. He might even speak to his father. And by speak he means he’ll sit there silently on the phone while his father screams at him. All that is predictable, though.

But what of Haruka? He doesn’t know if the other has any sort of plan to see anyone about his exacerbated depression. Will he go home and try to fight it himself? Will he feel better now that this trip is out of the way? Sousuke’s not sure he has anything to even offer Haruka in an ongoing friendship if that’s the case. Sure he’s company, maybe not good or bad company, but companionship just the same, but that only goes so far. 

Then he realizes he’s just assuming Haruka thinks that highly of him at all to call him a friend. Maybe Sousuke’s just been a good distraction.

Haruka’s the one who stepped up and advised Sousuke on this trip: Rin, Makoto, his injury, to name the primary topics. Sousuke had next to nothing for him in return. He didn’t even figure out what was going on between Makoto and Haruka before Haruka found the courage to simply take care of it himself, without any input from Sousuke. Haruka’s one of the most independent people he’s ever met. It seems absurd now in retrospect that he felt he needed Sousuke to come with him at all, or that he needs him going forward.

He sighs and readjusts so he’s sitting facing straight, but sinks low enough so that his chin is on the surface. He knows he’s being insecure. He’s still effectively thought himself into a funk over this.

A small voice reminds him that Haruka said he liked swimming with him. Shouldn’t that count for something? Shouldn’t that imply there’s something there? It certainly stunned him into silence. If Rin’s opinion is anything to go by, it’s one of the highest compliments Haruka can pay a person. So why is he feeling so awful?

He actually knows the answer to that. He sinks below the surface of the water and confesses it aloud and the words rise as bubbles in front of his nose, keeping his secret safe: If he’s wrong, he’s alone again. 

Specifically, he continues to think, he doesn’t want Haruka to look at him once they step off the plane in Japan and see nothing worth keeping around. Sousuke wants to swim with him. He wants to find him real food. He wants to get him a goddamn shirt befitting of his age with buttons and a collar that he’ll hate and never wear once. But none of that is up to him until he’s invited inside, because he already played the trump card of inviting himself in, and he’s frustrated and feeling anxious over the possibility that it won’t happen.

Something touches his left foot, and not just a tickle that could’ve been the current, but full-on over the top of it, and he’s flailing up and over the edge of the hot tub with a “fucking fuck me!” and a frantic look to where the offending matter might still be reveals that is was another foot, thankfully connected to a person, which was his second concern.

“Wow you really can space out, can’t you?” Haruka flicks at the surface of the water towards him.

He throws his head back for a second in relief before looking back at him. “Goddammit Haruka, what the hell!”

“I thought I was being obvious by lowering myself slowly and deliberately into the water directly in front of you and saying ‘hi’.”

“Words. Please. Use words. _More_ words,” he stammers with a hand clenched over his chest. 

“You’ve been gone a long time,” Haruka says with a slight frown. 

Sousuke takes a few more breaths to calm down before staying on the edge of the hot tub to cool off. “Seemed like you wanted to be alone.”

Haruka shrugs. “Can I talk to you about something?” he asks tentatively.

Sousuke loses his stomach to a sudden black hole and he thinks he might throw up his heart. “Sure.”

Haruka looks down as he speaks. “Yesterday I told Makoto that I need a break from him.”

Holy shit he’s going to talk about Makoto. Not just Makoto, he’s going to talk about _anything, something_. The rest of his organs try to escape him in a mix of dread and anticipation. “Yeah?”

Haruka nods. “It was the right thing to do. But it doesn’t feel good.”

“Sometimes it’s the best course,” Sousuke offers. “Absence making hearts grow fonder and all that.”

“If that were why, then it wouldn’t be this hard. I need him out of my life because we’re not… on the same page right now.”

“Couldn’t talk it out after all?” he asks. He’s trying to stay aloof, but Haruka’s pain over his decision is all over his face and it’s making Sousuke come off as quieter than he should be as an impartial party.

“Actually the only reason I decided it is _because_ we talked it out. I didn’t want to admit it until we had a discussion and I could be sure it would be the best thing for us, because it’s not like I’m stupid and don’t know what ‘breaks’ usually turn into.”

The implication is heavy even to Sousuke, who has no vested interest in Makoto and Haruka’s relationship. But he knows they’ve spent the majority of their lives inseparable, and for Haruka to suggest they cut off contact cold turkey is nothing short of a last ditch effort to save something. “Is it because of how he is around you? Does he treat you okay?”

Haruka makes a noise of disagreement and consternation. “It’s hard to really put into words. Makoto is kind and he loves me and would do anything for me but he doesn’t always understand me. Eventually it started to hurt me. So I told him I needed space until he could find a new perspective.”

Sousuke frowns. “What’s wrong with that? You’re a normal person with expectations.”

“He stayed with me when I wasn’t a good person to be around. I’m telling him I can’t return the favor while he works on himself- _for me,_ ” Haruka says in escalation. “I’m demanding he change something about himself exclusively for my benefit and I won’t even stick around for it. It’s the most selfish, probably most irreversible thing I have ever done-”

“Haruka,” Sousuke interrupts before the other can work himself to distress, “not everything you have to do is going to benefit Makoto. Not every choice you’re forced to make needs to consider him. You told him what you need from him for both of you to have a fulfilling friendship. He’s a grown ass man and he’s welcome to accept the terms or not, but you can’t beat yourself up for being honest about what you need- not want, need- to be happy with him.”

“But he did so much for me and he never needed a break while I was getting better,” Haruka stresses, leaning forward.

Sousuke waves his comment away. “That’s not what friendship is. It isn’t a barter system. No one’s keeping score. And you know what? I can’t claim to know Makoto very well, so I can’t tell you what he’s thinking to try and make you feel better because I’d be lying. I do know a few things though. The other night I nearly walked away from Rin with the intention of never speaking to him again- ever. I didn’t want to see him, I didn’t want to listen to what he had to say. But because of what _you_ told me, I turned around.”

Haruka’s face goes slack in shock and Sousuke keeps going when he doesn’t say anything. “You told me to tell him what I thought. You told me to tell him what I needed. If I hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t be friends right now. We’d never be okay again. It gave us another chance to get it right and I am so grateful for what you said. I almost walked away simply because we weren’t being honest about what we needed from each other. _I almost lost him_ and you saved me from making that mistake.” 

He pauses and takes a deep breath to get the sudden waver out of his voice before continuing. “You need space from Makoto because you don’t want that either, right? You _want_ him in your life. You did what you had to do to make that a reality. If he’s half the person I think he is, if he’s even a _quarter_ of the person _you_ think he is, he will _get that._ And you guys will be fine.”

Sousuke’s been edging forward bit by bit as he speaks and as he finishes he’s leaning over so far he barely has the balance to keep himself on the edge. He slips into the water again, re-submerging to his chin for another round of makeshift shoulder therapy. 

Haruka watches him move until he settles then leans himself back and relaxes, tension draining out around him in a gentle ripple. “Thank you.”

“Any time. Really.” He leans his head back on the edge, closes his eyes, and listens to Haruka skirting his fingertips along the surface in tiny short hops for an eternity, and thinks it might be a sound he could listen to for even longer. But he might not get to hear it for much longer if he doesn’t speak up.

Sousuke makes a decision. He’s let people walk out of his life before without putting up a fight. He’s not going to do that this time. He at least needs to try. “Whenever, you know,” he adds with a little borrowed confidence from Rin. “You can call or text. Or mail me a handwritten letter, as your reputation for phone use precedes you.” 

So maybe he’s being really highschool about this, and not direct like he usually is. But Sousuke’s good at a handful of things, and asking people not to leave him is not one of those things. 

“Somehow I don’t think all that will be necessary,” Haruka replies lazily, the trickle of water parting for his hands never slowing. “Letters are a lot of effort.”

Three and a half months after Sousuke turned twenty, one of the physicians that had been following the progress on his shoulder sat him down, looked him in the eye, put his chart on the counter so that his hands were free to fold together on his lap, and said: “Mr. Yamazaki, it is my professional recommendation, and will be documented as such, that you avoid _any_ strenuous activity which could serve to worsen the condition of your shoulder from now on.” 

He kept going. He spoke of alternatives, further recommendations, changes in therapy to adjust from aggressive rehabilitation to maintenance, and various other placations and platitudes throughout, but Sousuke didn’t hear any of it. His body was told it couldn’t swim with Rin, so Sousuke started to drown.

Whatever this is, whatever is seeping into his thoughts as Haruka finishes telling him he isn’t worth the effort, feels a lot like that did.

He opens his eyes and there’s only the black night sky to see from this angle, light pollution overpowering the stars. The gentle trickle stops. “Sousuke?”

“Yeah,” he croaks out.

“Is that okay?”

It isn’t. It’s not okay. It’s not okay. _It’s not okay._

“Is it something I did?” he asks quietly. “Or just another thing outside of my control? Could you at least tell me that?”

“Huh?” Haruka lobbs as a rock to his head more than says. “Were you even listening to me?”

“Yes, Nanase, loud and cle-”

Haruka pushes a puff of air from his nose in agitation. “Would you _stop_ spacing out when I’m trying to get your attention? I hate it when I have to repeat things.”

Sousuke sits up with the intent to rip into him to hide his hurt but Haruka beats him to the punch with a firm pindown of his eyes that leaves him nearly paralyzed. “I _said_ I want to keep seeing you after this is over. Phones and letters not being the only method of communication.”

“Oh,” he breathes.

Haruka rolls his eyes. “So? Is that okay?”

Sousuke laughs and sighs. On his exhale, everything that composes him turns to mush from relief. “I’ve been sitting here having a hell of a time thinking you were going to want nothing to do with me after tomorrow. Then you just go and flat out ask me like it’s no big fucking deal, like you’re asking me for the time.”

He looks away from Sousuke and resumes drawing patterns in the water. “I get enough indirectness and dodging from everyone else in my life. I don’t want that with you.”

The smile he briefly thought he lost again returns to him. “Then yeah, Haruka. I’d like that.”

“Okay,” Haruka says plainly. “It’s really hot in here, so I’m going to go back now and take a shower.”

“I’ll be there in ten,” Sousuke responds. Ten more minutes mostly because he's not sure if he can walk without a wobble. He really worked himself up over nothing.

Haruka nods and stands. He steps out of the water and onto the deck and bends to grab his towel. His skin is flushed pink and shimmering in the low light of the pool area, the lulling patterns on the surface of the water reflecting onto his chest. His arms are taut and his legs are strong and his eyes find Sousuke’s for only a moment but he _holds him_ there for that split second before he turns and leaves. 

Sousuke suddenly recalls a lesson in vasodilation from his highschool biology class and the effects of heat to promote the widening of blood vessels for healing purposes. He thinks of it as all of the richly oxygenated blood that had been flowing liberally around his inflamed shoulder to ease his pain and mend what’s undone suddenly finds a better place to be and another purpose to serve. Quickly.

Haruka’s light footsteps fade until they’re gone and Sousuke makes another verbal offering to the water which so graciously consumes his words and returns them to the surface as noiseless bubbles: Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing I said about this being a "soft end to part 1" was a delayed joke. Please laugh at it.
> 
> Thank you for joining the nerds in Los Angeles. Next time, we're back in Tokyo, and confusion pays a visit.
> 
> iskabee @ tumblr


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru considers sea monsters, petunias, and what else might be lurking beneath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiny new tags.
> 
> Say goodbye to Makoto and Rin for now. They'll be back. [Here is their heart song for this fic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d82zxqZHUo8) as a proper send-off.

Haruka can’t quite figure out what’s missing from this piece.

He’s in a lull between commissions and has had a palette stuck in his head for a few days. It finally drove him crazy enough to do something about. But now it’s out of his system and painted and it should technically be done but it isn’t. Maybe he’ll just have to sleep on it. Nothing good comes of forcing himself to be inspired when he paints because then he starts sticking sea monsters on things for lack of any other ideas. And while he actually wants to put a sea monster on this piece because it would be cool, he decided halfway through it that he has plans for it and it needs to turn out right.

“You’re deliberating. It’s almost one.”

Haruka doesn’t look up from the canvas. “Hm.”

“What on?”

“Hm.”

Sousuke lumbers over from his armchair. “Well it looks done to me.”

“It isn’t,” Haruka mutters around his thumbnail now clamped between his teeth in thought.

“...So what is it?”

Haruka finally looks over at him as he hovers obnoxiously to the side. “You don’t even know what it is and you’re telling me it’s done.”

“Yup. Because you’ve been at this for hours.”

He sets his paintbrush down on the plate with the rest of them and starts to roll out his wrists. “I would’ve finished earlier if your apartment was better lit than an exceptionally dark dungeon.”

Sousuke scoffs and stands up straight. “I didn’t ask you to make this your new office.”

“I wanted a change of scenery.” Haruka turns and stalks down Sousuke’s hall to his bathroom to wash his hands and brushes.

“Seriously though what is it?” Sousuke calls from the living room.

“Lanterns,” Haruka answers as he returns to put his supplies away. He stacks his paints in a box he brought with him and puts lids on what he’s mixed to save. All of it is stuffed away in Sousuke’s coat closet. 

Sousuke squints at the canvas. “...You’ll have to explain when you have more time. Sure you don’t want a ride?”

“I’m going to see Kisumi when I’m done,” he reveals as he pulls his shoes over his heels. “I don’t know how long I’ll be there. I’m fine with the train.”

Sousuke shrugs and falls back onto his chair. “Be safe,” he jokes. “Who knows where he’s been.”

Haruka sighs and reaches for the door. “I regret telling you that. It’s for business.”

“There are better fish in the sea, Haruka,” Sousuke calls over his shoulder.

“That isn't the saying,” Haruka deadpans as he leaves.

He rolls his hands a few more times to work the ache out on his brisk walk to the station. He’d been painting longer than usual without a break, but he’d honestly lost track of the time. Sousuke is deathly quiet while he works, so it’s easy to get lost in the task. It takes over an hour to get across town due to the train schedule. He has a follow-up with his psychiatrist that he could’ve just done over the phone, but her office _is_ close to Kisumi’s and they need to get together and talk about how many pieces Haruka’s going to be able to finish for an upcoming show. So he might as well go see her in person.

On the train he has to stand wedged between other patrons and the few blocks he needs to walk to get to the office building are a warzone of further activity. By the time he’s in the waiting area to be seen he feels like a walking petri dish of other people’s bacteria and the baking heat outside has given him a headache, but at least he makes it in time. He’s only sitting for a few minutes when an assistant calls for him.

“Haruka Nanase.”

He chose Dr. Sato a few years ago because her office wasn’t decorated with knick-knacks from Hawaii and front-facing self-help books like every other office he visited was when he was looking for the right person to help him. The sort of books that tell him to go for a run or cook gourmet cuisine or to think happy thoughts in order to feel better and the sort of knick-knacks from Hawaii that were actually made in China. 

She has very few books that are all for her reference and a small hand-carved figure from Nepal on her desk from her grandfather. Haruka doesn’t feel imprisoned by three walls of book covers sporting cleverly type-faced titles blaming him for his thoughts when he sits in the leftmost chair available, and the absence of Hawaiian commercialism makes it a marginally more appealing place to visit one day.

“We can always speak on the phone, Mr. Nanase,” she greets as always. She’s petite and sharp and wears her hair long. She also wears a mood ring, which Haruka finds downright fascinating and is one of those jokes that have somehow transcended being outwardly funny and exists soundly in the category of a slow and resounding applause. “I know you live far.”

He shrugs. “I like to get out. And it’s Haru,” he reminds her. 

“Well this is merely a check-in so as much as I enjoy your company, hopefully you won’t have to make this trip again any time soon.” She flips open his file. “How are you feeling since the adjustment?”

“Better.”

“Good. Any concerns?”

“Not so far.”

She makes a quick note of it then goes into the clinical script of asking about eating, sleeping, stress, and everything else. It’s perfectly average, and Haruka’s relieved to recount his increasingly boring and healthy life back to her.

“Anything else while you have me?” she asks, closing his file and folding her hands over it. It’s another thing he likes about her. He gets a free pass to talk out anything lingering without her jaunting it all down at the end of every meeting. Maybe she writes it down after he leaves, but he at least appreciates the opportunity to think otherwise. 

He told her about his steady decline for context leading up to his whirlwind of a week in California at their initial visit. He plainly stated his decision regarding Makoto, his new-found friendship with Sousuke, and the various stages of mood he found himself in during everything. She remarked that it must have been a hard decision to cut out Makoto temporarily, but she thought his reasoning well-rounded and asuaged his lingering fear that it came from a place of insecurity. 

She asked if it was correct to assume that Sousuke provided support during this stressful encounter, and Haruka confirmed that he did. She asked if Sousuke is a person he found to be a good addition to his life, and he agreed that he is. She was happy to hear it. 

Haruka was happy he answered without hesitation.

“Is this office hiring?”

She laughs. “Are you thinking of a career change?”

“Sousuke is looking for a job,” Haruka answers.

“I don’t believe we are, no. Is he a licensed psychiatrist? We can always use more of those.” She opens the filing cabinet behind her and puts his file away.

“Unless he left that detail out, I doubt it.”

She smiles apologetically as she turns back around. “Anything else?”

He folds his hands in his lap and stares down at them for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “I felt like moving my painting supplies over to Sousuke’s. So I did. And he let me for some reason. Even though I take up a ton of space and get it everywhere.”

“Oh, that’s new.” Dr. Sato leans back and cross one leg over the other.

“I don’t know why,” he continues distantly.

“Why he let you?”

“Why I wanted to.”

She chews thoughtfully on her lip for a moment. “Well I can’t presume to know that for you. I suppose you just appreciate his company and wanted a small change in scenery.”

“That’s what I keep saying.”

“But?”

“But it’s really inconvenient,” he complains. “He works at a grocery store until he can find something better somewhere else and his hours are bad and random and I never get to paint when I want to.”

She laughs. “It sounds more to me like you have some thoughts of your own to sort out.”

Her one downside. Sometimes Haruka would just like a straight answer from her, but she ascribes more to the belief that he talk himself through his quandaries and reach a conclusion himself with her guiding him gently back to center if he travels too far out of bounds of reasonable thought. It isn’t her job to think for him, she told him once.

“I’m showing in an exhibit on the fourteenth,” he says. “Maybe it’s just subconsciously stressing me out so I need to paint somewhere else until then.”

“Maybe,” she says with a shrug and a smile. “I suppose you’ll find out.”

He sighs and gives up. She won’t budge on this. If anything her coyness tells him there _is_ another reason. “Okay.”

“Well, if that’s all,” she says warmly. “You have my number and e-mail. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you need me or want to set anything up.”

Haruka stands and offers a quick bow of departure and gratitude. “Thank you.”

She stands and walks him to the door, and gently puts her hand on his shoulder for a brief second as she opens it for him. “You’ll figure it out. I’m glad you’re doing better, Haru.”

He nods and leaves, unpocketing his phone as he exits the building.

_i’m coming over._

-

"You just get to invite yourself over now?" Kisumi grumbles as he steps aside to let Haruka in. "Agree to a single showing for once and it’s open season on my door?"

"I knew you were home," Haruka explains over his shoulder, heading to Kisumi's bathroom to wash his hands for the second time of the grime of Tokyo.

Kisumi sighs but doesn't argue. “Want anything?”

“Water,” he states, and waits for Kisumi to complain.

“ _Please,_ Kisumi. _Thank you,_ Kisumi,” he gripes, voice fading from the hallway as he turns and walks to his kitchen. 

Haruka snorts and dries his hands. He makes himself at home at Kisumi’s kotatsu, and the other joins him with a glass of water that he slides across to Haruka as he stoops to sit. 

“Five pieces,” Kisumi starts.

“Three.”

“Four.”

_“Three.”_

Kisumi throws his head back with exasperation. “Haru! This is as much for you as it is for me. Business? Connections? Liveable wage? Ring a bell? Why won’t you do more?”

“You just told me about this last week,” Haruka says. “And the show is in another two weeks. I don’t have enough time.”

“...Four.”

He wouldn’t be pushing it if he really didn’t want it. Haruka holds his gaze while he drinks his water. “I’ll think about it.”

“You just got back from a foreign country less than a month ago. Isn’t that how you artists get inspired? Whimsical, frilly shit like that?”

Nothing comes easier to Haruka than openly mocking Kisumi. It’s high up on the list of his most enjoyable pastimes, especially when he walks right into it. “If whimsical and frilly were all it took Kisumi, at least one portrait of you would end up in a show somewhere.”

Kisumi narrows his eyes. “I do this as a _favor._ And this isn’t even my full-time job. If you want to use my connections for these things, you should be _nicer_ to me.”

“I’m so threatened,” he sighs in feigned boredom.

“You better thank Makoto every single day for me,” Kisumi mutters. “I teach _math and physics._ And somewhere along the way I got dragged into the pretentious world of art.”

Haruka snorts. “It sure is a mystery why you’d rather hang around in rooms full of available young men than the ones full of the old and married with their math formulas.”

Kisumi laughs. “You’re right. I got a date riding on this. The new art professor in charge of this show is-”

Haruka holds up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Kisumi gasps in mock offense. “ _Hey._ I bring him nice art for his show, I get laid for contributing to its resounding success, and then in turn _I_ don’t bug _you_ to lay me that night out of pity and you go home a few tens of thousands richer. How could you _not_ want to hear about the hot art professor? What part of this deal does not benefit you?”

Haruka finds himself laughing into his glass a little bit and Kisumi grins. “Thought so. You should see his eyes.”

Haruka rolls his own and stands to go refill his glass. Kisumi follows in behind him. “And his ass.”

“Sounds amazing, Kisumi.”

“His cheekbones.”

“Hm.” He runs the tap and shuts it off at three-quarters full. He takes a drink and counts backwards from four, and on zero Kisumi’s hands slide around his hips and he falls flush along Haruka’s back. Haruka getting water is some sort of Pavlovian turn on for Kisumi since that’s what Haruka was doing the first time Kisumi dared to lay a hand on him that Haruka did not immediately bat away with a snarl. It’s sort of amusing, and he’s gotten really good at timing the deconstruction of Kisumi’s self-control when he goes for the kitchen sink. 

“Haru,” Kisumi sings near his ear. 

“I’m here for business,” Haruka says steadily.

“No one needs to know we mixed the two just one time.” 

He considers it. Haruka lets the hands on his hips roam and leans back against him to make it easier to find the hem of his shirt. He would be lying if he said he never liked how this arrangement ended up turning out. He isn’t very sociable but Kisumi isn’t looking for a date and he’s usually available, not to mention so oddly interested in Haruka. He enjoys it and it keeps him entertained. Needs are called needs for a reason. But right now he has a lot on his mind and he’d just be distracted, and he’s still not one to let Kisumi one-up him in any arena. He can't stop thinking about the paints. 

“I’m good.”

Kisumi whines ever so slightly and pulls off of him just as quickly as he latched on. “Fine... wait. Are you _off-limits?_ You don’t _do_ that sort of thing… this is _not_ my beautiful Haru. Who are you?”

Haruka turns and leans against the counter. “I just don’t want to.”

“Too bad,” he tsks. “Oh well. I’ll date that professor anyway. He’ll appreciate me as a person. Unlike you. You’re so rude Haru. So who is it?”

“Who is who?” Haruka snaps. “I said I just don’t want to. There’s a lot going on.”

Kisumi laughs. “All right all right, keep him a secret for now. I get it, you’re not _official._ ”

He sets his glass down in the sink. “I need to leave.”

Kisumi frowns. “Haru, I didn’t mean-”

“No, it’s fine. I should get home anyway. You want four paintings in two weeks, remember? This is your fault I can’t stay.”

“Sure Haru,” Kisumi sighs. “Sorry if I went too far.”

“You didn’t,” Haruka assures, walking to the door. “And I do appreciate you. Thanks for this. Even if you’re just using me.”

Kisumi winks at him and pats Haruka on the cheek. “Look at how far we’ve come.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Haruka warns, withdrawing from the gesture.

“Mutually using each other, not falling outwardly ill at the thought of physical contact,” Kisumi continues to chirp with an exaggerated dreamy sigh. “Well that second thing is more about you.”

Haruka pulls a face of disgust anyway and Kisumi humphs when he sees it. “I’ll keep you updated,” Haruka says as he lets himself out into the hall. 

Kisumi leans in the doorway and pushes some hair from his face when the warm afternoon hits him. “I’m counting on you. Hey, let me know when you want to come clean about your boyfriend, I want to meet him and judge him for his taste in shoes. Tell him he isn’t good enough for you while he’s in the room. Suggest you could do better over dinner on major holidays. Blatantly exclude him from family e-mail chains.”

Haruka can’t help but huff out a laugh, but Kisumi can’t have the last word. “I hate to break this to you, but there isn’t always going to be a good reason for why people tell you no. Sometimes people are just not going to want to sleep with you. _Just because._ ” 

“Okay wow! That is a _lie_ and that was _mean._ I will find out who it is, Haru!!”

Haruka only starts to walk while he has his victory and waves over his shoulder. He starts his long trip home and runs smack into the late afternoon rush hour on the train, making this journey worse than the one over. He nearly runs through the park to get back to his house, and likely would’ve broken into a full sprint just to get inside if he wasn’t already nearly overheated.

He only realizes he left his keys at Sousuke’s when he goes to unlock his door. It’s hot, he’s tired, and this is a very frustrating development when all he wanted was a cool bath and a quiet environment for the endless downpour of thoughts currently flooding his brain thanks to Dr. Sato, Kisumi, and those paints.

He pulls his phone out and sees Sousuke’s already tried to impart upon him this knowledge a few times.

_you left your keys here_  
_im not bringing them to you_  
_youre going to be pissed if you go home first_

“Hey, there you are. You ran by so quickly I nearly missed you.”

Haruka turns around and sees Sousuke trotting up the stairs to him.

“I thought you wouldn’t bring them to me,” Haruka says defensively, holding up his phone.

He shrugs once he’s at the top and starting down the hall. “I don’t know, I’m not that mean. I wanted to be, because it’s gross out and you still won’t look at your phone apparently, but I’m not. Got to go to the park, wasn’t so bad.”

Sousuke catches up to him and drops his key into Haruka’s outstretched hand. “Thanks. I’ll try and make sure it’s on vibrate.” He turns and unlocks his door. “You can come in,” he offers, walking in without waiting for a response. He hopes Sousuke wants to. He’s been busy all day and they haven’t spoken much.

He hears his door close as he walks to his kitchen for more water, still feeling overheated. “Water?” he asks loud enough for Sousuke to hear. He doesn’t answer so Haruka gets it anyway in lieu of repeating himself.

Sousuke’s looking over his starlight in puddles painting that he’s since hung up in his living room. He got it a new frame and adorned it to a free wall. Most of his walls are free, he doesn’t decorate much, but it looks nice there anyway.

Haruka nudges Sousuke’s arm with the glass and he turns to receive it. “You know this is really cool,” he remarks. “Guess I haven’t got a really good look at it until now. I didn’t notice there were figures in it too.”

He does look enthralled by it. Sousuke strikes him as the type of person who, were he raised on how to look at art, might have a really good eye for it. But he wasn’t and mostly ends up appreciative of it beyond the typical response instead. “You’re the first to notice,” Haruka responds mostly in jest. Not many people have seen the piece anyway. 

He walks over to his couch, narrowly circumventing the small kotatsu that makes everything cramped, and wedges into the corner of it with his legs drawn up. Sousuke takes the other end, twisted to the side with one leg up and the other down. 

“So how’d it all go?” Sousuke inquires tentatively if not slightly uncomfortably. He always seems so reserved to ask Haruka for details. Haruka appreciates the respect for his privacy, but he also thinks they might be moving past that formality somewhat.

“Good. The appointment was quick. Kisumi wants more than I might be able to make,” he starts. “But I’ll try.”

“I still don’t get all that.”

“He works at the university he graduated from. He teaches math and helps out with the art department as a part-time job, mostly to help fill in available gallery space. Art programs aren’t very robust with students here and Kisumi knows a lot of people to help. Makoto put me in touch with him a long time ago; they went to the same school.”

Sousuke nods along. “Ah. So, sorry I don’t know how all this works. What does he want?”

“Four pieces. Can be anything, but I only paint for galleries, so four paintings.”

“Is that going to be okay?” Sousuke asks with a little worry. Haruka knows he’s asking about the pressure, not the work itself.

“It’ll be okay. It’s good for me to try to take on things like this sometimes. It’s a different kind of pressure, I guess.”

“Can I go? To the showing?” Sousuke asks hopefully.

Haruka blinks a few times in slow comprehension. He didn’t figure Sousuke would want to. “It’s not really your crowd,” he warns.

Sousuke shrugs. “You’ll be there, right? You’re my crowd. I’ll invite Gou, too. I want to see your art.”

Haruka hasn’t seen Gou in ages and feels a stab of happiness at the thought, and that last comment has his face warming up. “It’s not a big deal,” he mumbles.

He frowns and nudges Haruka in the shin with his foot. “Hey, of course it is. It’s what you do for a living.”

He supposes Sousuke is sensitive to things like that since he’s still looking for what he wants to do. Haruka really wishes he could help more. He just doesn’t know a lot of people to ask around for anything. Sousuke’s only worked at the grocery store for a few weeks, but his scowl when he gets off shift and lets Haruka in to paint doesn’t leave his face until Haruka leaves for the day and is replaced with a little pout. A pout that sits heavily on his chest, if he’s being honest with himself.

Growing up he hung out with Makoto by default. Makoto made plans to hang out with others for them and brought Haruka with him. Haruka’s sure their friends wanted him there, and he was fine to be there, but he didn’t go out of his way to spend time with anyone else one-on-one. Now he does. And that person is sad to see him go when he leaves. He’s too old for this thought and it’s a little late to be having it, but it’s nice to feel wanted outside of Makoto.

“Haruka?”

He jumps and forgets they’d been in the middle of a discussion. “Yeah, you can go if you want to.”

Sousuke grins and nudges him again. “I’m looking forward to it then. When is it?”

“Fourteenth.” He’s glad he’s still flushed from being outside or he’d probably need to hide his face behind his knees at this point.

“Well we need to get you inspired because that’s soon. What do you want to make?”

He hasn’t thought that far, brain still focused on what’s missing from his lanterns. “I don’t know yet.”

“You know that shitty art in our room in California? ”

“What about it?”

He shrugs. “Just a jumping off point. It was so ugly, maybe you can make it nice. What were those? Daisies?”

Haruka laughs a little bit. “Not even close. But I’ll think about it. Flowers are common in art so I’d have to be careful. I do want it to sell it after all.”

“Hmm.” Sousuke looks off to the starlight painting in thought. “I’ll think on it for you.”

Haruka drinks from his glass and watches him while he’s distracted. They haven’t been in Haruka’s apartment together since Sousuke brought that painting over. Things have been changing so gradually he only just notices how far away they are from that day. Sousuke, though he was only trying to help, was so _angry_ then and not even Haruka escaped that wrath at the end of the night. Not even two months ago. And now he’s making flower arrangements in his head for Haruka to paint. Wants to go see his art. 

Haruka had to spend a lot of time with him California, and it just happened to turn out to be one of the better things that’s happened to him this year. He took a chance, and it worked out. Now that they’re back, he wants to spend a lot of his time around him, around this easier personality, even if he isn’t being forced to by proximity of a shared hotel room. Sousuke’s calmer but he isn’t passive. He’s still crass but he isn’t mean. He takes a certain interest in Haruka’s life that makes him feel wanted. Haruka suddenly thinks it might be why he moved his paints in. Any reason to be closer to all of that without outright asking for it. Using work as an excuse to help him along until he can say it out loud without the aid of convenience. 

“I have an idea,” Sousuke says with a devious raise of his eyebrows. Haruka looks in wait. “Let’s go to the… what are they called? The place with all the plants.”

“Botanical garden.”

“Yeah. Let’s go there. I bet it’s open. It’s only four and a weekday so probably not too busy.” Haruka admits it’s endearing that he wants to help with something he knows nothing about so badly. The gardens won’t do anything to inspire him because Haruka isn’t a wide-eyed hopeful student who thinks flowers will sell. Which are the sort of artists that place attracts. But he still wants to go anyway. 

“Look up when it closes. I want to change clothes.” He crawls off the couch and walks to his room. He feels like he smells like heat in general, which is unpleasant. He stops by his bathroom once changed into something thinner and lighter to wash his face as well. When he returns to his living room, Sousuke’s just putting his phone back in his pocket.

“We got time. Closes at six, and it isn’t too far. You eat?”

He shakes his head in denial. Not since breakfast.

Sousuke looks disproportionately happy with the response. “Well we have an evening then.”

Sousuke brought his car, thankfully, or else they might not make it to spend any significant amount of time there. He offers Haruka fast food if he wants to eat right away, which his face could not help but twist up at at. Sousuke only chuckles when he sees it out of the corner of his eye like he already knew he’d respond that way. He puts the radio on to something benign to fill the silence of the drive, humming along here and there, singing in a half-mumble from time to time. Haruka only knows a few of the songs, but Sousuke seems to know at least a line from every one. 

Once parked, Haruka gets a good look at the front of the building and finds it surprisingly ornate. Gridded glass and metal comes to a high peak, the tops of trees within visible from the outside. It’s intriguing at least. He stops and stoops to look at some of the plants with interesting leaf patterns and Sousuke gets his attention with a shout, waving him over from the entrance.

“Come on. I’m assuming the better stuff is inside, dork,” Sousuke jokes when Haruka’s closer. “I already paid.”

“Sousuke,” Haruka protests. “I can pay for myself.”

“This is my dumb idea, I may as well make it not cost you anything if it doesn’t work. You get the food.”

He doesn’t feel like pointing out that the food will cost him more than the gardens will, but he supposes he put his foot in his mouth by declaring his financial independence anyway.

It’s boring at first, mostly various shrubbery and trees they already see all over the place where they live. The architecture is nice, archways guiding the worn stone paths, but the botanical part is nothing to write home about. A few small ponds start to pop up here and there, adding some variation.

“I thought there’d be flowers,” Sousuke whines after not even three minutes. “This is all the same to me.”

“Eventually,” Haruka gambles. Maybe. He hopes so. 

The path leads them outside again, and it all opens up. A large pond sits in the center, and the paths spider off to different areas. The sheer volume of foliage that takes up his vision all at once is a refreshing sight, and not something he gets to see among all the buildings in Tokyo.

“Lead the way,” Sousuke says. “I don’t know what any of this shit is.”

Haruka snorts. “I don’t either.” He picks a direction at random and starts down the stones. They end up walking down a path that’s made a tunnel by weaving trees reaching over them and tangling with each other. It blocks the high sun and keeps them in the shade, the very lightest of breezes sweeping through every so often.

“Inspired yet?”

“No.”

The path ends in a small courtyard, circled by more trees that Haruka recognizes as ones that bloom with tiny white flowers in spring. He makes a mental note to return in March to see it, because he imagines this many trees in full bloom would be an amazing sight. He crosses the courtyard and takes another path the leads out, Sousuke in tow. This path is much more colorful. The bushes are in bloom and wildflowers pepper the area beyond the sides of the path. A few trees have wispy hanging arms like miniature wisterias, and others are dense and richly green with yellow fruits.

Haruka runs his fingertips over the tops of a row of blooming pink shrubs. Some are light pink like Rin might like and some are more of a rich fuchsia. That Rin also might like, now that he thinks of it. Rin just likes color. 

“Oh,” Sousuke says from behind him. Haruka turns and sees him squat next to something. “These are the ugly things.” Haruka walks over to see what that could possibly mean. Sousuke points as Haruka squats next to him. “From the hotel.”

“Petunias.”

“So you _do_ know about flowers.”

“Petunias are common,” he argues with a frown.

Sousuke picks one from the plant and tucks it on his ear. “Inspired yet?”

Haruka rolls his eyes and reaches out to take it off and toss it to the side. “Even less than when we started now. Don’t mutilate the flowers.”

Sousuke laughs as Haruka stands and keeps walking. If Haruka didn’t know any better, and he doesn’t, that was exceptionally flirtatious. He’ll need to get even before they leave. 

The stone path gives way to open area and he continues to make his way over now softer forest floor. Sousuke continues to follow lazily behind him, starting to hum again. They pass under trees with the barest hints of yellow in certain patches, indicating the impending fall. For how hot it is today, it’s a pleasant reminder. 

The forest empties back to the pond in the center. They go up and down a few more paths and finally end at a small shrine. There’s a cat that sees them coming and darts off, startling some birds nearby. It had a collar, so Haruka assumes it just sort of lives here. He’ll tell Makoto about it one day, then watch the chaos unfold when him and Rin rush straight here to look for it and Rin sends him a series of increasingly angry texts yelling at him for telling Makoto a fake story about a cat that lives in the botanical gardens.

“Well sorry. That wasn’t much,” Sousuke says with disappointment.

Haruka shakes his head. "It was nice. In the spring I was thinking this is probably quite a sight, actually.”

He sighs. “This isn’t really an inspirational thing for you, is it? You knew that.”

Haruka leans on half-wall of stone that braces the stairs leading up to the shrine. “Not really. For students maybe. I just wanted to go with you.”

If Haruka had to put Sousuke’s sudden change of skin tone on a scale between the light pink shrubs and the fuchsia shrubs, he’d register more on the fuchsia side. He admits he said it just for that effect, too, sort of curious where the shade would land. 

“Oh.” He clears his throat. 

“It was a date, right?” Haruka pushes nonchalantly, still wondering just how red he can make him in retribution for the petunias. “So I agreed to go.”

Very red, it turns out. “I didn’t… think of it… It was _not._ It was for _inspiration,_ ” he stammers before standing straighter and scratching at the back of his neck. “So what if it was?” he continues indignantly. “It could be both.”

Haruka snorts. “It could be. Now ask me if I’m hungry to remove all doubt.”

Sousuke slumps in defeat. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes. Take-out,” Haruka answers. “I want to paint.”

-

It’s dark when they get back to Sousuke’s apartment. Haruka is hungry and tired but he knows he can finish the lanterns tonight while he’s still thinking about it. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do yet exactly, but he can’t ignore an urge to paint if he gets it. They lay out their food over Sousuke’s dining table and eat over small comments about the gardens, but mostly in silence. 

“So you know what you’re doing then?” Sousuke asks once he’s down to a few bites of rice. “Since you want to paint so late.”

“No, I want to finish the lanterns.”

Sousuke huffs in visible disappointment.

He shrugs. “It’ll come to me, I’m not worried. I’d rather work on this for now.”

“What’s this one for? Someone ask for it?”

He shakes his head in denial. “Just for me.”

“So you know how to finish it.”

He shrugs. “I don’t.”

Sousuke just accepts it at face value and stands to clear the table, stuffing leftovers in the fridge and tossing the empty containers. “I’ll be back.”

Haruka stands and gets his box out of Sousuke’s coat closet and kicks it over to the area he’ll set his easel at. He drags a dining room chair over to use as a spot to lay everything out, brushes and paints, and gets the easel set up too. He clamps the painting up that’s been resting on Sousuke’s kitchen counter to dry from his last session, and by the time he’s done Sousuke re-emerges from his hallway clothed in sleepwear with a faint smell of face soap and toothpaste trailing with him.

“Mind the T.V.?” he asks, falling onto his couch.

“It’s your apartment. But no.”

It flickers on and Sousuke skips around channels before settling onto some subtitled movie. Haruka breaks up the stiff bristles of his brushes against his palm and tilts his head as he stares at the lanterns. At a glance, they’re four vague rectangles standing tallways on a line stretching the width of the canvas that is its own narrow rectangle on its long side. The shapes blend one into the other but still keep their own forms, their own distinct texture and shade. The color palette mirrors the sunset over the coast of Los Angeles. It’s the four of them. To Haruka it is, anyway. 

He chews his lip as something picks at the periphery of his mind. It’s the four of them, sure. But the palette is his. The interpretation is his. The meaning is his. Everything about it belongs to him. And it is for him. Even if he isn’t going to hang it in his apartment, _this is all his._ He’s in control of every millimeter of it. He wants to show that. That’s what’s missing.

He uncovers his mixed paints and ties up a few corners, blends a few more things. Gets the balance just right so that what he adds sticks out how he wants it to. He finally picks out new colors from his box and mixes just a coin-sized amount on the lip of one of his mixing saucers that already hosts a bright gold and dips a fine brush to it. He cuts a sharp line of the new color underneath his self-designated lantern and using a fan brush, drags it up into the rest for an easy blend. It’s harsh against the warm palette of the sun. It doesn’t fit at all. 

“I think I see it.” He doesn’t startle when Sousuke speaks behind him, even if he doesn’t know how long he’s been painting or how long Sousuke’s been standing there watching it.

“Yeah?”

“Makoto, you, me, Rin,” he lists in order from the left. “Right?”

He nods and takes a step back for a wider view in the dimmed light and collides with Sousuke, who probably knew better and should’ve also taken a step back to make room and chose not to. Haruka settles there anyway, and Sousuke brazenly folds his arms across Haruka’s chest, a heavy solid weight pulling him close enough to be able to feel Sousuke’s heartbeat at his back.

“Why green?” he says barely above a whisper, head canted down for his voice to be right next to Haruka’s ear.

Haruka laughs softly and nearly soundlessly, and turns his head slightly towards him before answering. 

“It’s blue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A shitty rendition of the painting of this chapter.](http://iskabee.tumblr.com/lanterns) Haru's a better artist than me so don't judge.
> 
> Updates will be spaced farther apart by a day or two for a bit. I got a lot of stuff to do both for fandom works (do soumako week if u love me) and my day job.
> 
> iskabee @ tumblr


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke takes some initiative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This chapter is super, super long and I was too stubborn to cut anything so you have to deal with it.  
> 2\. I’m really sorry if you thought I was done making dick jokes.  
> 3\. Because I’m not.

Sousuke returns home from an early trip to the gym to how he left Haruka: standing in front of a gigantic canvas with a stoic expression as he dots away at something. Sousuke hasn’t been able to bring himself to look at what he’s working on for the showing. He sort of wants to keep it a surprise for himself. Haruka covers it all anyway when he leaves, so it’s rather easy to avoid. 

Haruka only vaguely acknowledges him with a wave of his brush and gets back to work. It’s honestly rather obsessive and his concentration this week has been something to behold. He shows up, he paints, he leaves, and half the time they barely speak. 

“You take a break since I left?”

He makes some sort of noise that Sousuke reads to mean ‘no’. 

Sousuke leaves him be and heads to the shower to get his shoulder under the heat. It’s still tight despite a few rounds of physical therapy, but so is his money so he hasn’t been able to go back to beat it into further submission. It’s forcing him to do cardio and remedial stretches with light weights when he goes to the gym which makes for the actual worst workout of all time. It’s a fucking wonder he still even bothers.

Once clean and dried off, he gets into a button-up and a pair of slacks with matching shoes and gets his hair in the general order it falls in. Not too nice, not too sloppy. He isn’t a fucking try-hard, and this shouldn’t take _too_ long. Luckily it’s cooler out this week as compared to the last, so he shouldn’t be a mess of sweat and misery from wearing a long sleeve before he even gets to where he’s going.

Though if Haruka is _still_ working when he returns, he might have to be a nag and forcibly remove him from the area to take a break. 

Keys, phone, and wallet in their proper places, he heads for the door and swipes the folder he left out on the counter the night prior without interrupting Haruka again.

“Where’re you going?”

He turns at the door to see Haruka facing him and gestures to the folder. “The clinic.”

“Okay. I’m leaving soon.”

“Okay?”

“So you want me to leave your door unlocked?”

“Oh.” He walks back into his kitchen and opens his pantry door and gets a spare key off a short row of hooks. “Just take it,” he says, crossing back and holding it out for him. Haruka reaches to grab it and Sousuke notices little bandages on a few of his paint-stained fingertips.

“It’s nothing,” Haruka answers before he can ask.

He raises and eyebrow and drops the key into his hand. “You’re right, I don’t want to know.”

“I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

He shrugs. “Keep it for now. I work a lot this week leading up to the show, so if you want to work when I’m not here you can.”

Haruka looks down at the key and back up. “Don’t you think we’re moving a little fast?”

Sousuke doesn’t even know what to _say._ All he can do is turn his beet-red ass around and leave and try to pretend he doesn’t hear Haruka titter like a little fucking bird as he closes and locks the door behind him.

-

Sousuke looks up at the split-level clinic building and takes a deep, chest expanding breath through his nose to get his nerves to fuck off and walks inside as tall and sure as he can make himself. He walks up to the receptionist who greets him with a customer service smile.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m Sousuke Yamazaki. I’m looking for a job. Anything that isn’t clinical. Finance, facilities, whatever,” he states with authority.

She sits back in her chair, slightly intimidated. He probably could’ve stood to scale that back a little. “Oh, um, well I don’t hire. So I’ll call for the clinic manager?” she says, unsure.

Sousuke clears his throat and backtracks on his giant, lumbering, angry man approach. One day he will learn that it isn’t synonymous with confidence. “T-that’d be nice. Thanks.”

She smiles again in that _please-don’t-hurt-me_ sort of way and leaves the reception area. Sousuke turns out and leans against the counter and directs his eyes to the floor, since there are a few patients waiting on chairs and there’s nothing else to look at.

“Ms. Minamino?”

He snaps his head up at the sound of the familiar voice he was hoping to avoid until after he spoke with the manager. Gou surveys the room for her patient and her eyes settle on Sousuke instead and widen. She points at him aggressively but doesn’t say anything, and Sousuke knows better than to leave the area before they can talk now. 

A young man pushes his mother forward in her wheelchair and Gou greets them with a smile and walks them back.

“Um, sir?” He turns back to the receptionist. “This way.”

She guides him back to a small office down a short hallway separate from the exam rooms and gestures him in. An older woman sits behind a cluttered desk and smiles as he walks in, rising to meet him. Sousuke bows. “I apologize for coming on strong. I’m Sousuke Yamazaki, and I’m just wondering if you have any non-clinical positions available.”

She laughs and waves for him to sit down. “Hana Ukimura. Most people apply online.”

Sousuke reddens. “That hasn’t really been working out for me.”

She hums and looks him over. “Well, sell yourself. You have me for five minutes and then I need to get back to work.”

Sousuke’s bravado dwindles to nothing. This is the worst idea Haruka has ever had. He fishes his resumé out of the folder he brought and slides it to her. She starts to look it over. “I’m listening.”

He clears his throat. He practiced this. “I barely know anything about medicine. But I know a lot about numbers. My shoulder is rehabilitated so I can’t lift a lot directly over my head. But I’m still strong. And I’m a neat freak and I know how to keep things clean. And I know Gou Matsuoka. Which isn’t a reason why you should hire me, but she’d be really mad at me if I didn’t say it.” Fuck that was a really stupid thing to say.

“She already told me you’d be stopping by yesterday,” Ukimura reveals. “I’ll think about it, Mr. Yamazaki. It was nice to meet you.” She looks back to her computer and Sousuke takes that as his cue to leave. That could not have gone well. He bows quickly and shallowly and tries not to sprint out of the building entirely. 

He rests in the shade outside and off to the side where part of the structure juts out enough for him to sit on and gets his phone out.

_im outside,_ he sends Gou.

_im going to kill you,_ he sends Haruka.

Sousuke was stuck with a double a few days ago to cover an ill co-worker and about blew a gasket over it. Haruka, who has been completely enveloped in his work for the show and was barely listening to him rage across his dining room, casually threw over his shoulder that Sousuke should just find out if Gou’s clinic was hiring. She’d be a good reference either way.

He stopped dead in his ranting so suddenly even Haruka broke his attention to him for a split second before returning to his canvas. “I never even thought of that.” 

“I know you haven’t,” he’d responded flippantly. And then he apparently proceeded to _tell Gou he was going to appear and ask for a job._

And now here he is. Besides himself with murderous intent and an embarrassment tearing him apart from the inside.

_you’re welcome,_ Haruka replies.

This fucking guy.

He groans and knocks his head back against the plaster of the building and waits for Gou. With Matsuokas on the mind, he reminds himself to give Rin a call at some point this week. They try and talk when Haruka and Makoto aren’t around, out of respect for their agreement, and also try not to talk about them at all. Just what the other is up to personally. It does make it more difficult to line up times and topics with those constraints, though. Still, they’re both making an effort, even if the call can only last five minutes and it’s about nothing. It’s the best Sousuke’s felt in ages about it. 

He must be waiting for a while because he definitely dozes off at some point during that thought chain.

“Hey snookums,” Gou coos, poking him in the forehead. He’s never startled by her no matter what stage of nap he’s in when she goes to get his attention, unlike Haruka who has effectively shaven seven years off of his life with how often he sneaks up on Sousuke “unintentionally”.

“Pookie bear,” he deadpans.

She giggles. “Come on, let’s get lunch. I have an hour and you got a lot of talking to do.”

He thinks this might only be slightly less worse than a public execution.

-

It would be a quiet, warm lunch outside in the shade over a small bistro table if Gou would lower her voice.

“Did he hit you?! I will put him in the ground!” Gou yells.

Sousuke laughs. “No. We did not physically harm each other.”

“Small miracles,” she says thoughtfully. “Well that explains why you haven’t called me in a tizzy about him in a while.”

He heaves his shoulders and frowns. “I’d like to apologize for putting you through that for as many years as I did.”

She shrugs and takes a bite of her curry. “It’s okay. I know how hard it can be with him. Even when it’s all your fault, it’s still always a _little_ bit his fault. He’s not always the most thoughtful of me, either. But I’m here for you no matter what. Rin too.”

He hums and starts to push what’s left of his rice into evenly spaced piles. 

“So what else happened on this magical surprise trip? My brother never flies me out anywhere! I’m going to yell at him.”

He feels bad already and moves to kill his lie before it gets too far off the ground. “Okay,” he sighs. “I’m lying. He didn’t fly me out. He flew Haruka out.”

She pouts at him. “Sousuke.”

“I know. But the truth is more ridiculous.”

She glares at him.

“Haruka got me my ticket. He’s the only reason any of this happened.”

She glares _harder._

“I told you it was more ridiculous!”

Gou relents and shakes her head. “I guess that puts a better context on why he texted me out of the blue about you.”

“Which I cannot believe he did. I have already warned him his days are numbered for that,” Sousuke mutters.

“But it isn’t _enough_ context,” she says suspiciously. “Start over.”

He strangles a whine in his throat, knowing Gou won’t put up with it if he lets it go. If he talks though, she’s going to know. She just _will._ And then it’s just the end for him. But he has no choice because staying mute won’t save him either. He doesn’t escape this unscathed. “I can’t tell you _everything._ Just my side.”

“Fine.”

He pushes his plate forward and out of the way and leans on his arms. “It was coincidence. I’ll spare you that, it really was. But regardless of how, he wanted me to come visit those two with him because he has some issues with Makoto and a few other things going on. It was just to keep each other sane.”

“Who has issues with _Makoto?_ ”

He holds his hands up. “Just my side.”

“Fine.”

“So we got to be friends.”

“That it?”

He could say yes. But his face is really red, and she isn’t going to buy it.

“That is _not_ it,” Gou declares. 

He sighs. “We got back. He took two- almost three- weeks for himself, barely heard a peep. Didn’t bug him. I picked up a job at a grocery store, let my dad call me a bunch of shit even I won’t repeat before he told me to go fuck myself. Politely, of course. He’s always been polite.”

Gou frowns. “I’m sorry, Sou.”

“He’s a prick, you know that. It was a long time coming. Maybe I’ll get an invite to his funeral. Anyway, the break was probably for the better. I spent a solid week pissed off because of my dad and wasn’t in the mood for company. But Haruka texted me occasionally. I let him initiate. Didn’t want to be pushy. Two-ish weeks gone, then he shows up at my door with a box of his paint and leaves it there. Brings his easel over the next day and he just… works out of my place now. No explanation even three weeks later. But it’s been nice.”

Gou puts her chin in her hands as she leans forward. “Uh _huh._ Continue.” 

How does she make him feel so insignificantly small when she is approximately half his size? “We hang out. He’s nice. And also sort of a dick. But in a good way. And not really.”

“Oh?”

“Thoughtful. Smart. Funny? Sometimes I can’t tell. When he’s joking I mean. We went to a garden last week. There weren’t nearly enough flowers.”

“Too bad.”

“That’s it.” 

She cocks her head and blinks big eyes at him. “Is it.”

He snaps his jaw shut and lets her scrutinize him and knows he’s said too much. 

“Porkchop.” He knew this would happen. He knew, and he still spoke.

“Yes?” It isn’t even a word. It’s a grunt.

“When are you going to tell him?”

He slaps his hands to his face with his elbows braced on the table and drags his fingers down the front while grumbling into his palms. “Soon.”

“Like…?”

“He’s got a thing coming up. He’s really busy right now. I’ll wait until his show is done.”

“When’s that?”

“Next week. Fourteenth.”

She clicks her tongue. “Your _birthday?_ That’s so cheesy. But if you want to I suppose.”

He stops his muffled mutterings and stares at her in horror through split fingers.

“My _god,_ Sousuke, put it in your phone already.”

“I forgot,” he whispers.

Gou reaches forwards and pulls his hands away from his face, clasping them with her own dramatically. “You poor, chronically neglected child. Let me hug you.”

He pulls his hands away and glowers at her. “No. You’re ruining my life.”

“Look at you,” she giggles. “You’ve only cursed like four times since we sat down. That’s a happy Sou.”

“Goddammit,” he grumbles. “This was so much easier when it was all still cold showers to me.”

She purses her lips. “Yeah... that’s… that’s more than I needed.”

“I’m serious, Gou. What the fuck do I do with this?”

Gou hums. “Well you can pursue it. Or not, if you’re really happier on your own. But I think you should try and shake things up. Haruka is a wonderful person.”

“He has a fuck buddy.” Which he is not jealous of. Not at all.

“So what?” she says with a shrug. "Not like that's permanent." 

“So what if that’s good enough for him?”

“Why are you asking me this?” she groans with an eyeroll. “I haven’t spoken with him since I graduated. Don’t fall into this habit again of running to me for answers.”

Sousuke sighs and buries his face on folded arms across the table. So he _likes_ Haruka and at some point it wasn’t just physical attraction anymore and that point was probably when he accidentally asked him out on a date. And maybe he’d like something more. But he’s a piece of shit boyfriend. Even Gou has told him that. Verbatim, actually, and that sucked. But that was about four years ago and he’d like to think he isn’t a walking time bomb anymore, set to detonate on anyone and everything that tries to uncross his wires. 

She was right though. There was no one worse to date than him in college. Okay, and probably even up until a year or so ago. Anyone with a lick of situational awareness could probably sense he was only one step above the men people posted anonymous horror stories about on the internet. Which doesn’t say a lot for the stability of his exes that they _didn’t_ notice, to be honest.

“You said I was a shit boyfriend. I don’t want to do that to him if that’s still the case. I’m just worried,” he mumbles over his arms.

“I did, didn’t I?” she says distantly. “You must’ve really made me angry to say that though I don’t remember what it was for anymore.”

“I turned off my phone when what’s-his-name’s mom died and he wouldn’t stop calling me.”

“ _Right._ You deserved it then. Also, it was _Yori,_ and he was a nice boy,” she chides with a frown.

Sousuke tries not to feel too bad about that and hopes he didn’t damage that guy for life. But his parting words to Sousuke were "I don’t ever want to hear from you again", so there isn’t much he can do about it. “So what I’m saying is, I could fuck up what we got, and we got a nice friendship.”

She thinks about it for a moment with a small pout. “Well if anyone won’t put up with that though, it’s Haruka. He’ll kick your butt and leave you in no time at all if you pull any of that emotional shut down crap. He’s been through too much, even I know that from Rin.”

He rests his chin on his folded arms. “I don’t want him to have to worry about that though. I wouldn’t want him to have to go through leaving me because I couldn’t get it together. Then we won’t have _any_ relationship.”

“You’re such a fatalist," she chides. "None of this has happened. That you’re worrying about it at all tells me you’ve grown. You used to deny your knack for self-destruction to my face.”

“So I recognize it now. I could _still_ fuck it up.”

Gou looks about done with his fragile ego and rubs at her cheeks in annoyance with a high-pitched whine. “Well then porkchop, _don’t_ fuck it up, and you have nothing to worry about, do you? You’re a big boy. You know how to behave by now.”

Sousuke sighs and pouts up at her. She’s probably right. It’s all him, and he should step the fuck up and stop cowering in the stage wings of his life if he wants anything to come of his time on earth. Just because he’s been safer there doesn’t mean he’s been happier. Haruka makes him happy. If he wants to see where that can go he needs to stop hiding.

“Don’t you fuckin’ curse at me,” he mutters in silent acceptance.

She smiles wide and reaches over to pat him on the arm. “So what’s this show?”

He sits up and grins. “It’s what you’re going to be my date to. It’s an art show. Gallery thing.”

“Oooh! That sounds fun. I get you all to myself for one more night and then I have to give you both away to each other. Like the proud mothers you never had,” she says with a mock sniffle.

He laughs and rakes his fingers through his hair in mild embarrassment. “We’ll see. You did say it was cheesy. But I’ve had enough public humiliation for one day. What’ve you been up to?”

-

It’s a long week. Thankfully Sousuke doesn’t see much of Haruka. He works while Sousuke does and is usually gone or cleaning up when he gets home. Haruka nearly seems avoidant, and when he does get a good look at him he looks like he hasn’t slept since he started painting. His fingers stay bandaged, and accumulate more of them and not less. The night before the show, he puts away everything this time, and it seems he’s finished the four pieces. Haruka barely gets his shoes on before Sousuke intervenes and drives him home instead of letting him walk or take public transportation despite his weak protests. He mutters a thanks and slumps out of the car and Sousuke’s left wondering and worried just what the fuck he’s been up to to look run so ragged.

On the fourteenth Haruka arrives with Kisumi in tow, and goddammit he could’ve stood to warn Sousuke. It’s his first day off all week and he’s in sweatpants when Haruka lets them both in, and that’s about it. Haruka looks like he finally slept more than a few hours, which is a relief to see. 

“Kisumi,” Sousuke greets as placidly as he can muster on his way back to the couch with a well-deserved cola in hand.

“Wow Sousuke, long time no see. Way to dress up for your guests.” Kisumi turns to Haruka. “I can’t judge his shoes if he’s not _wearing_ any.”

Haruka shrugs. “Later.” He walks over to his covered paintings. Sousuke returns his attention to the television and decides he doesn’t even want to know what that meant.

“Holy shit, Haru,” Kisumi gasps. “Sousuke have you seen these?”

“Nope.”

“You _should._ ”

“That’s what tonight is for.”

Haruka mutters something and Kisumi turns his attention back. “If these don’t sell I’ll be heartbroken for us _both._ I’ll price them for you. Do you have anything to wear, by the way? I need you to schmooze the old and the rich with me and you need to look good. I don’t speak art and you fake it so well. I’ll bring the charm, don’t worry.”

Haruka sighs and Sousuke can hear it from across the room. “Yes.”

Sousuke takes a sigh of his own over his soda can and it makes a little hollow whoomp over the opening. Haruka will be with Kisumi all night. At least he’ll have Gou and his now crippled confidence to keep him company.

His phone goes off and he wriggles it from his pocket.

_happy birthday fuckface. call you tomorrow to see how it went. hugs and blowjobs, full homo._

He snorts after taking a moment to decipher the crude English and pecks back a one-handed reply in English of his own: _thanks jackass._

Rin remembered. He tries not to let it get to him too much since his birthday isn’t anything to him personally, and it isn’t as if _he_ remembered, but it really _does_ mean something in the scheme of things.

“Well fantastic. Let’s get some clothes on the way, get all this over there, then I’ll get you dressed and looking sharper than you really are at my place. Last time I trusted you to get dressed, it wasn’t okay…” Kisumi frowns as he looks Haruka over. 

Oh _good,_ maybe that way they can get a quickie in too before they get him into nice clothes. Sousuke squishes into the couch even further. He’s allowed to be petulant and jealous if he keeps it to himself. He’s also allowed to glare at them while they’re not looking. 

“Sousuke come help us get these to the car,” Kisumi dares to command of him in his own goddamned living room.

He rolls off his couch and slinks to his bedroom to find a shirt, then slips into sandals. Kisumi hands him the largest canvas, still covered in a protective sheet, and Kisumi grabs two and Haruka grabs the last and leads the way to the door, opening it for them. Haruka directs them to stack them a certain way in the hatch area of Kisumi’s car, then half-waves to Sousuke and gets into the passenger seat. Kisumi slams the hatch and faces Sousuke with a smile, or a predatory grin depending on the light to Sousuke’s eyes.

“I’ll take care of him, don’t look so gloomy. We should catch up tonight if I can get away. I’m _so_ interested.” Kisumi claps him on the arm and doesn’t wait for a response- that asshole- and twirls his keys twice on the three steps to the driver side door. Sousuke turns to walk back inside as they drive away. What word of that entire statement _didn’t_ just piss him off more?

He fumes and naps interchangeably on his sofa for another few hours until it’s time for him to get ready as well. He’s picking Gou up for dinner first, at her demand of it.

_whatre you wearing,_ he asks her.

_!!!_

_you know what i mean_

_hehe. black._

Charcoal it is. He dresses the shirt up with a muted slate-blue tie so whatever else Gou wears sticks out a little better since she usually has a pop of color somewhere, and picks out average black slacks and shoes. He likes looking good with her, not that it’s hard when she makes it so easy. 

-

He drives to pick her up and tries not complain about all the drag-assing around Tokyo he has to do today to make all this happen. She answers the door with a smile and her things, ready to leave. Her hair is done up from her usual ponytail into a loose bun and her black dress is perfect on her. She went with a robin blue to accent on her bag and accessories, and Sousuke tries not to let his _a-ha_ show on his face for his ability to match it well without knowing beforehand. He’s known her for a long time, after all.

“Gorgeous,” he greets. She blushes and punches him in the arm. “Bet you money we’re the best looking duo at that show. Where are we going?”

“Italian,” she answers. “Felt like something different. Let’s go, reservation is in twenty minutes.”

He explains the entire show to her and Haruka and Kisumi’s part so she isn’t in the dark about it, but otherwise lets her talk over dinner. She’s done more than enough listening to him and his bullshit her entire life. He slowly lets go of his bitterness as the evening goes on regarding Kisumi monopolizing Haruka all day. This is their thing. An evening with Gou is his. It’s fine, he has nothing but time with Haruka after this is over. She pays the bill and he protests, but she pulls the birthday card and also threatens him bodily harm if he says one more thing about it other than ‘thank you’, so he relents.

They’re late to the beginning of the exhibit by an entire hour, but it wasn’t realistic to be anything other than that with how damn far all of this is from each other. The parking gouges him for what feels like a week’s pay, but he keeps his grumble to himself and pays it. They walk into the exhibition hall hand in hand, flash two passes Haruka gave him earlier in the week, and are immediately greeted with plum wine and crackers on every surface that doesn’t already have art and not a single thing in their element.

“Oh boy,” Gou says with a giggle. “This is interesting.”

“No kidding,” he mutters. “I hate wine.”

She stops at one of the fancy tables and a suited up volunteer pours them both a flute. Gou takes it and clinks it to his. “Only one way to enjoy this sort of thing; slightly lit.”

He shrugs and drinks it. “As if the retirees here aren’t already about to hit the floor.”

“Let’s go find all the phallic art and giggle at it,” she says with a bright flash of a smile. “We drink every time we find something suggestive.”

“Gou, Rin will kill me if I let you die of alcohol poisoning.”

She laughs and pulls him away by his hand, and they both learn quickly this was either a good game or a very bad game depending on the perspective and Sousuke’s joke about Rin might not be such a joke. They stand dumbfounded an indeterminate amount of time in front of a sculpture not trying to be anything other than a dick.

“Oh my god,” she gasps. “This actually is a penis.”

Sousuke snorts and covers her mouth. “Not so fucking loud!”

“You’re loud!” she says muffled before pulling his hand away. “It actually _sold,_ ” she squeaks, squatting down at the base it’s sitting on to point at a red sticker. “For _twenty thousand_ sculpted by a guy named Kozuma oh my god Sousuke someone is going to have this _in their house,_ ” she whisper-shrieks and covers her mouth in a giggle.

He bites his lip and shakes his head before pulling her up by her arm, acutely aware of all the glares and stares they’re garnering. “We’re seriously gonna get kicked out and we haven’t even seen Haruka’s art yet.”

Gou takes a deep breath but the red on her cheeks stays stubbornly put. “Okay, okay, nothing will top that one anyway. Where is he by the way? Shouldn’t we have seen him by now?”

Sousuke shrugs. “Who knows.”

“Hmm,” she hums. “Well that makes your intentions for the night difficult to realize, doesn’t it?”

He feels bad now, like Gou might think he brought her to distract him from all that when it isn’t true. “Nah. You’re right, birthday is cheesy. I wanted your company because I knew this would be stuffy and weird.”

She laughs. “Well I’m having fun.”

“Good. I gotta find a bathroom,” he realizes. 

“Me too. Then we’ll find Haruka.”

He nods and starts to barrel through the crowds to the edges of the showroom floor, Gou behind him. There’s a hallway that looks promising for hosting some facilities, so he chances that. There aren’t any. He sighs at the end of it and turns around, but Gou’s standing with a frown next to a closed door.

“Sou, there’s something…”

He walks up and leans to it, and hears muffled yelling on the other side, definitely Kisumi though he can’t place the other voice. 

_“This... yo...go...right?”_

_“I...aft...we’re done…”_

_“Now or… nev...a little... Shigino.”_

_“Don’t fucking touch me.”_ Then a dull thump.

That’s all he needs to hear. He gently pushes Gou out of the way so she isn’t seen before opening the door quickly to a storage room. Kisumi has some guy in a suit arm-barred against a wall, pinned at the throat, with ferocious snarl on his face. He looks to the side when Sousuke enters loudly, and steps back, releasing him. 

“Who the fuck is that?” the man asks.

Kisumi looks at Sousuke with a brief pleading look before grinning. “Hey _babe,_ there you _are,_ I was just explaining to Professor Kozuma that I’m _taken_ and _uninterested_ and look what the cat dragged in to prove my point.”

Sousuke stalks over to Kisumi without missing a beat and slings a heavy arm across his shoulders before looking stoically to the suit and speaking with exaggerated cheer. “I just _can’t_ keep tabs on this little minx. Thank you _ever so much_ for finding him for me.” Then he remembers something. “Kozuma huh? I think I saw your dick sold, why don’t you go collect on that,” he delivers much more menacingly with a square of his shoulders, pulling Kisumi tighter.

Kozuma glares at them both but straightens his tie from the dishevelment Kisumi caused and stalks out the door. Gou cheerfully yet sarcastically waves him goodbye and joins them. Sousuke lets go of Kisumi and he lets out a sigh of relief.

“You okay?” Sousuke asks. 

He shrugs. “I just really didn’t want to beat the shit out of someone today. Thanks for intervening. I thought I wanted to date that guy. Can you imagine? Turns out he’s definitely a creep.” He sighs. “So difficult to meet people- _wait_ did you say his ugly-ass sculpture sold?”

Sousuke laughs. “Yeah. Probably bought it himself to save face.”

“No shit. It was seriously disturbing,” Kisumi says with a grimace. Gou giggles from Sousuke’s side.

“Where’s Haruka?”

“Kozuma was getting pushy with him too so I excused us to set some damn boundaries,” Kisumi says with an eyeroll. “He’s fine if not annoyed, just left him with his art.” He looks to Gou. “Miss Matsuoka how have you been? Radiant as ever.”

Gou smiles and waves. “Hi Kisumi.”

“Well shall we? You still haven’t seen his work and you better look soon because those beauties sold and are going home with some ignorant rich couple soon.”

“Ignorant?” Rich and stuffy maybe, but probably anything but ignorant of art if they’re here.

His eyes flash in something like pride and wonderment. “You’ll see.”

They stop by the actual bathroom as they pass it. Sousuke splashes a bit of cold water on his face to finish sobering up, which isn’t too hard considering the turn things took. Kisumi looked like he was going to break every bone in that guy’s body and stuff his corpse into the nearby mop bucket. Sousuke vaguely remembers a similar look on Kisumi’s usually playful face from Sano when some punk tripped Rin in the hallway after school and laughed at him. Sousuke let Kisumi take care of that kid and just made sure Rin wasn’t upset. It was around the anniversary of his dad’s death, so Rin was sensitive over it. But manslaughter isn’t on the agenda for anyone tonight, and it’s a good thing he stepped in. 

Haruka is leaning disinterestedly against a wall when they find him with a water bottle dangling from one hand. Kisumi dressed him up _nice_ and Sousuke feels his face heat up. His hair is brushed back and his suit is solid black with a stark-red tie. Gou jabs him playfully in the side as Kisumi walks ahead of them to reunite with his painfully bored looking friend. 

“Cute.”

“Shut up.”

Haruka perks up at the sight of Sousuke and Gou and pushes off the wall to walk to them. Kisumi mutters something, presumably of Kozuma, and Haruka frowns but nods. Haruka stops in front of them and greets Sousuke with a small nod, but looks at Gou and smiles a little bit.

“Matsuoka… Kou,” he says with a playful raise of his eyebrows. 

“Haruka!” she gushes, pulling him into a hug that he returns right away. Sousuke is impressed; Haruka does have charm stuffed away in his personality somewhere. “You look so good!”

“You too.” He returns his arms to himself but keeps a small smile. Sousuke’s pulse is _spiking_ as he looks him up and down over and over and there’s no way it isn’t obvious. He switches his focus to look over all three of them smiling and standing almost shoulder to shoulder. He isn’t sure they’ve ever been in the same room together and is overcome with a nagging pull of fondness for them and this moment in time. Haruka who looks incredible and _happy,_ Gou who’s bright and warm, and honestly Kisumi who he nearly forgot was so loyal and caring in his quest to be bitter about him. He could get used to this.

“Art!” Kisumi chirps after a moment. He waves Sousuke and Gou with him around a corner made by a divider and Haruka stays put.

“Coming?” Sousuke asks him.

He shakes his head. “It’s embarrassing.”

Sousuke chuckles and keeps going, and turns the corner of the divider. His laugh dies in his throat and chokes out as a gasp.

_Fuck_ , his work is spectacular. That clever little shit took those petunias and annihilated them into three distinct pieces on four canvases and each one has a little red sold sticker on the information plate below. He sold flowers for a fuck ton of money. 

The two smaller canvases are the petunias exactly, but they’re made of formed and clear water. They mirror each other as companion pieces. When Sousuke leans and looks closer, he’s reminded of the specific splash he makes when he swims butterfly. The angry break on the edges of the water makes up the edges of the petals, spread wide like his arms do at the top of the fly. Life coaxed into placid surface and life returned. From a distance. But they’re not as calm as they seem. Up close they’re harried and disoriented and just because the edges are made of water, they’re no less sharp and dangerous to the eye that’s looking warily. It’s Sousuke when Haruka met him. The mirroring gives him anxiety, his anger is reflected at itself to denote the cause and on raw display. It’s unnerving.

The second piece isn’t so lively. Charcoaled flowers that may or may not be the ugly petunias with only the centers still a bright red and yellow resembling smoldering embers, reminiscent of Rin, petals black and disintegrated and crumbling away. They fall in a single column; an eerily straight line down the center of the canvas on a background of bleak, dry, and cracked ground. It hurts his heart to look at it; it’s obvious what part of Haruka’s life he chose to be inspired from for it.

The largest piece is torn petals on sparkling, golden water with seafoam interspersed in a web. They’re not wilted or dying. Up close they’re simply torn. He considers the point of it and finally takes a few steps back. Reverse of the first piece, it’s meant to be seen at a distance. It’s one vague outline of a flower made up of torn pieces, the golden sea water and foam holding it in its shape. Haruka and Makoto, torn up but not far. Not whole for now but no less perfect in shape, pieces meant to drift together again by their lively eager edges. It’s emotionally _moving_ and only so many people will ever know what it is and Sousuke can’t fucking believe he’s selling these.

He’s turning on his heel with that thought, leaving Kisumi and Gou to talk about what they see.

“What are you doing?” he asks Haruka breathlessly who is leaning bored again on a wall. “Why did you _sell_ those?”

Haruka looks up in mild surprise and then he just smiles small and shrugs. “Just felt like things that needed to go.”

Kisumi and Gou interrupt them and Sousuke struggles to get his composure back. He wasn’t expecting this. Gou touches his arm soothingly, knowing something is up but not knowing how to help so publically. 

“Ready Haruka?” Kisumi asks.

Haruka nods and smoothes his clothes down. 

“I’m taking him home, Sousuke,” Kisumi says. “I need him to come fill out some paperwork too so we can release the work before the patrons leave. Sorry to steal him.”

“It’s fine. I need to sober up a little before I drive home,” he lies. “They are beautiful, Haruka.”

“Really amazing!” Gou adds. “You’re just incredible.”

Haruka blushes rather fiercely for his usually controlled face. “Thanks.”

That’s it, that’s all. Kisumi whisks him away and Sousuke is standing there feeling like an odd combination of absolute shit and on top of cloud nine. Gou clings to his arm a little more insistently to show her support. “That was something, huh?”

He nods. “I can’t believe he did all that,” he mumbles vaguely. “I need air.”

They leave the floor and go outside, walking slowly back to his car without breaking their touch. ‘Haru’s an artist’ has always been something he’s known, whether it’s come from Rin or just something he’s always been vaguely aware of after hearing stories of his efforts to get people to join the swim club in high school. But some things you have to experience for yourself, some things don’t really sink in until they’re directed at you, and Sousuke is hit with the gravity of Haruka’s raw talent so suddenly that he’s _dazed._

The air helps. By the time they’re to his car he’s calmer and his skin can feel the bite of impending Autumn again. “I can drive,” he corrects for her. “I just... that left me a little shook up.”

“It all meant something _else,_ I could tell,” Gou says quietly. “One day maybe you can tell me.”

He nods. “Yeah. I will. Promise.”

He drives her home in silence and apologizes for it when they arrive. She reassures him with a squeeze on his free hand.

“I’ll see you soon,” Sousuke tells her.

“Yeah. Hopefully at work, right?” She winks. 

He tucks a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear and leans over to kiss her forehead. “Love you. Thank you for all this.”

“Of course, porkchop. Keep me updated, okay? Love you too. And happy birthday again, for half an hour longer anyway. I’m proud of you.” She gives him one more smile and lets herself out. Sousuke waits until he can see her key into her door at a distance, and drives the long quiet trip home.

-

Sousuke walks in ready to sleep this entire day off but not before he can just fucking sit and think about it for a moment. He gets himself water from his kitchen and shuffles in his socks over to his chair, pulling his tie loose with his free hand and undoing the top button. He doesn’t make it to the chair before something on the wall above his couch catches his eye in the dull light.

The lanterns. Hung, centered, and framed. The piece disappeared the day after Haruka finished it. Sousuke assumed he took it home to display for himself, since it was for him after all. 

The wood of the box frame matches his living room almost too perfectly. The shade of the stain looks like it could’ve been packaged and sold with his coffee table. He walks up closer to it and sees each piece making up the frame is different from one another. Not drastically so, little imperfections here and there, but nothing that could’ve come from a factory promoting uniformity. 

It’s hand built.

The bevels, the sanded curves, the inlaid decorative lines, the groove that holds the glass- real cut glass, not plexiglass- in front of the canvas, the mounting wire, the finish. All done by hand. Every single piece. 

He built it from scratch, tore up his hands, lost all that sleep. Kisumi helped him bring it here with that excuse to leave. For his birthday? But how did he know?

_call you tomorrow to see how it went,_ he remembers Rin’s text. He thought it was a comment in general.

Sousuke bends to the side without taking his eyes off it to set his glass down on his end table with shaking hands and air caught solid in his lungs. His blood is rushing past his ears and his entire chest must be moving not with how fast, but how _hard_ his heart is slamming into the back of his ribs. If the art at the gallery left him disoriented, this is nothing short of feeling like he’s watching himself about to break down in third person.

“Well it’s after midnight-” 

Sousuke whips around with a shout and a clutch over his already strained heart. “Holy _fuck!_ ”

“-but it still counts.”

Haruka’s a few steps from him in his usual shirt with loose pants, hair brushed back down and exhaustion on every inch of him but the ghost of a devilish smile stubbornly hanging on nonetheless. “Happy birthday, Sousuke.” He finishes the last few steps and stands so fucking _close_ that Sousuke thinks he’s going to collapse.

He quickly eyes the clock in the kitchen. It’s not his damn birthday anymore by ten minutes. It isn’t fucking cheesy. 

Just sappy. 

He grabs Haruka by his shoulders and kisses him before the other gets a chance to beat him to the punch, and if it’s the only thing he ever gets the jump on Haruka for in his entire life, he’ll be content with it. Haruka falls into step and links his arms around Sousuke’s neck and Sousuke moves to support Haruka’s angled face with his hands, pushing for more, suddenly and urgently impatient. Haruka doesn’t mind and gracefully walks them backwards onto the couch while Sousuke tries to learn the intricacies of his teeth.

Haruka straddles Sousuke’s hips yet eases back elsewhere, kisses still pulling deep but lazier and slower. He sits back first, as Sousuke already mentally committed to refuse to be the one to lose that contest, and pecks a few more times at his lower lip before resting their foreheads together. “I wasn’t planning on this, I still wasn’t sure,” Haruka says more to himself and then pouts. “But Kisumi tricked me and left me here on purpose so I thought about it while I waited. And I’m sure.”

“I’ll have to thank him,” Sousuke says against his lips, then takes one more kiss before Haruka can fall asleep on him.

Haruka lets his eyes fall as heavy as the rest of him looks. “I want to sleep now.”

Sousuke laughs in a hushed hitch and runs his thumbs over Haruka’s cheekbones. “Me too.”

“Bed,” he murmurs, sliding off of Sousuke and walking with a slight waver down the hall towards his bedroom.

Sousuke will just have to assume he isn’t meant to take the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait _shit_ matchmaker is the _opposite_ of Kisumi’s role I fucked it up _I fucked it all up._
> 
> Congratulations! We’ve arrived. Have some SouHaru. :0
> 
> iskabee @ tumblr


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru asks what's next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hi please direct all complaints for a long update break to popnographic for dragging me into hell with her for like four solid days, causing the delay.
> 
> There is porn in the beginning of this chapter u betta skip about 500 words if you don't want to read it. Let me take this opportunity to announce that there will probably be more porn in later chapters. The one scene in this chapter isn't worth bumping up the entire fic to E though cuz it's not _that_ E, you know? Overall there will not be a lot of porn in this fic. In the scheme of things. But it'll be there.
> 
> Probably like 4-ish chapters left of this thing. Maybe 5 idk I haven't planned that far. But we're setting up the home stretch with this chapter and also this is all fluff and it's disgusting tbh.

Haruka throws his head back with a groan and thwacks it loudly on the headboard he’s lying against, hard enough to make the wood in turn rattle against the wall. Sousuke stops and pulls off completely and looks up at him.

“You all right?”

 _“What?”_ he breathes out with difficulty, peering down in frustration and confusion.

“Sounded like that hurt.”

He huffs impatiently and twists his hands in Sousuke’s hair before pushing him back down.

“Ow, _ow!_ _Okay!”_

Haruka thinks Sousuke’s smiling around his cock now, but he’s going to pretend it’s a play of light for both his ongoing enjoyment and for Sousuke’s sake. 

Sousuke works back to a rhythm that Haruka’s hips slowly learn again. He strokes the back of one hand along the inside of Haruka’s thigh, gently reminding him to stay spread, and takes him down all the way, nose bumping against him before a deliberately agonizing drag back up. 

Some sort of line about sights he’s never seen before. Or something 

He bucks to meet him in a rare display of impatience on his part. Sousuke just pushes him back down with his other hand and grunts in disapproval. He thinks he lost the original argument that got him into this situation about six minutes ago now, but it isn’t like his loss isn’t also his gain.

Sousuke picks up his pace without much warning and Haruka relents one of his hands from his hair to cry out into his palm. He tries to keep it down, not that it matters anymore since he lost, but Sousuke is relentless and even unforgiving as he switches gears from teasing Haruka to finishing him. His hips fall out of synch and he can’t keep the whine off the end of every shallow breath he manages to take. Sousuke’s quick and his pressure is steadfast. Haruka’s _close_ and he tells him that against his will, though it probably didn’t spill from his mouth intelligibly. Sousuke suddenly slows, and mimics his slow drag from a moment ago, and Haruka skips the usual escalating moan into a full-on shout of surprise and pleasure, and whimpers over the waves of his orgasm until he’s lulled back to earth.

Sousuke lets him go when Haruka stills and sits up and back, eyebrows raised in amusement.

 _“Fine,”_ Haruka says as he tries to catch his breath.

“I told you,” Sousuke says with a near tune. He bends for Haruka’s boxers and hands them to him.

Haruka sighs and pulls his legs through the garment and up until the band snaps on his hips. “Some people might be proud of less degenerate things and accomplishments.”

“Hey, I take what I can get, and I give good head. Not such a bad deal for you, in my humble opinion.” Sousuke crawls up to sit next to him and Haruka turns to capture him in a kiss and forgoes the formality of starting chaste, embarrassingly overcome with the need to do so. Sousuke hums with contentment into it.

“There’s nothing humble about you,” Haruka mumbles when he pulls away. 

Sousuke looks at him hazily. “That was fuckin’ hot. You sure I’m the degenerate?”

“Yes,” he answers stubbornly.

Sousuke chuckles and rolls off his bed and to his feet. “Be back.”

Haruka takes a deep breath now that it’s steady again and puts the back of his head to the headboard with a quieter thwack this time. One minute they’re talking about breakfast and the next minute Sousuke’s parting his knees with a drawn-out and disbelieving _‘ooookay’_. Hopefully now they can get back to the original issue at hand, now that Sousuke’s had his ego stroked for the day. Haruka is hungry.

Sousuke returns and yawns on his path back to the bed. He falls onto it and turns on his side to face Haruka. “So what do you want?”

Haruka scoots down and lies flat with a turned head so he can see him. “I’m sure I’m on the hook for breakfast now, not you.”

“Nah, I’m still all tangled up in that new relationship crap, you know? I’ll do whatever you want for like another week and then you’re on your own. Besides, it’s my place. You can cook at yours.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest. Idly, he reaches up to scratch his nose and Sousuke catches his hand before he can lower it again. He presses his thumb to the underside of Haruka’s index finger to see the side of it and pouts. A rather gross looking scab still takes up most of the surface area where he cut it wide open. “When’s this gonna heal and go away so I can stop feeling so bad?”

He turns the rest of himself onto his side. “Why? You didn’t do it. I slipped and caught it on a rough edge.”

“Mmm but it was because of a _beautiful_ gift for _me_ so I can’t help but feel a _little_ bad.”

He sighs and tries to sound annoyed but knows it falls flat. “Would you stop that? It’s embarrassing.”

Sousuke drops his hand and finds his waist, inching himself closer. “No it isn’t. I really love it.”

“You told me. About five-hundred times in five days, actually.”

“Then what’s one more time?” He grins. 

“Annoying, that’s what it is.”

Sousuke clicks his tongue. “And you wanted breakfast.”

“You better start it before I get there first and pan fry mackerel.”

Sousuke groans and sits up. “You win.” 

Haruka sits himself at the table while Sousuke moves around the kitchen. Sousuke fries him the fish anyway, but fries two eggs for himself in another pan to roll over rice. He sets out miso soup, his simple bowl, and Haruka’s fish before returning with a kettle to pour them tea. Haruka’s learning he’s a man of simple foods. It’s interesting. His pantry and refrigerator are meticulously organized with basic ingredients for basic meals. He cooks them with precision, and they’re better than the average iterations of such dishes, but extremely simple nonetheless. He’s really curious how this preference developed. 

“Thanks,” Haruka offers when Sousuke sits down across from him to eat. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Do you need to ask to ask?”

Sousuke shrugs. “Was that too fast? You didn’t even think twice about it.”

Haruka allows himself to swallow his bite before responding. “I don’t know why we’d wait. We’re not new to any of this. There’s no secret here. It only didn’t happen sooner because I needed to catch up on sleep in my own bed the last few nights and you’ve been working.”

“I mean, that’s what I was thinking, but I don’t know,” Sousuke stammers. “Everyone’s always all about waiting so I couldn’t help but at least ask you. Just in case.”

“Seems like a lot of effort to me for no good reason. It’s just sex. I obviously don’t care,” Haruka explains, briefly thinking of Kisumi.

Sousuke’s elbow comes to rest on the table and his chin parks on his hand. “Has it _ever_ been anything more to you?”

“No,” Haruka answers honestly. 

He sighs a little. “Me either.”

“Sousuke, I like you. That’s enough for me. Sex with feelings has nothing to do with it. We’re not Makoto and Rin, so don’t dwell on it. I know that’s who you’re thinking of.”

Sousuke blushes but doesn’t stumble over it. “Yeah, you’re right.” He takes a drink of his tea. “Oh, hey.”

“What?”

“I like you too.”

Haruka groans and takes a bite.

-

Sousuke works so Haruka swims.

He hasn’t been able to for a few weeks and he finally feels okay enough to go. He was sore from all that work and mentally spent. He had a headache for nearly two days that he couldn’t shake with any combination of sleep, aspirin, or food. His wrists still ache dully if he bends them the wrong way, and at this point he misses the twinge in his knee if it means he can get his hands back. Physically he was a wreck, any emotionally he wasn’t faring much better either. _So much_ changed in such a short amount of time that he needed to adjust. He didn’t want to saddle Sousuke with all that this time, and he’s more than proven his dependency already, so he told him he just needed sleep. Haruka thinks he has it under control, and it was important to prove that to himself. It helped to know support wasn’t far if he needed it. 

He isn’t convinced that Sousuke didn’t see right through his excuse anyway, and still chose to leave him be.

Haruka sails off the block and cuts into the surface. If he could, he’d breathe a sigh of relief. He swims hard, overcome with energy and nostalgia for the burn in his lungs that begs him to breathe. He goes back and forth and stops counting his laps after five, and figures he’ll go until his body tells him to stop. 

And then what?

He’s not used to looking forward. He’s kept his eyes steadily trained on his feet to keep himself from tripping. But now his legs are solid underneath him, and the road is much less uneven. He can spare a glance forward, yet he doesn’t know what he wants to see.

Haruka slaps the wall and stops. He’s completely out of breath, and even wheezes a moment with the strain. He eases onto his back and lets himself float around. He wonders what Makoto thinks of all of this. Rin knows since Haruka needed his help and couldn’t get it without an explanation, so he probably told him. It’s a big change in his life. Haruka’s never had a big change without Makoto involved directly, or at least there as it unfolds. It should be something lonely and sad, but he doesn’t feel either of those things. He knows Makoto. Makoto is happy for him, and probably won’t stop asking Rin for details. He lets himself smile picturing Makoto’s eagerness.

Haruka showers after he lazes about for another twenty minutes. The morning chooses to revisit him rather inconveniently and he quickly twists the knob to cold then back to hot to fix it and shudders as it hits him. Haruka isn’t one for getting hung up on or even thinking too long over physical attraction- honestly he forgets all about it at times- and Rin told him once he needs to be beaten over the head with it before he acknowledges it exists. But there’s no denying he’s crossed a point of no return where Sousuke’s concerned. No denying the light behind his eyes as Sousuke dragged his mouth openly down Haruka’s throat, his chest, his stomach, and his hips. Sousuke’s shoulders rolled in perfect circles as he traced down, he looked to Haruka every few seconds with dark eyes to make sure it was okay, and Haruka swears on his life he felt the individual ridges on every fingertip that Sousuke pressed into his skin-

Well there’s no one here anyway.

When he emerges from the aquatic center he clears his throat to break up his sudden onset embarrassment when the last twenty minutes catch up with him, then remembers to check his phone. People reach out to him now. It’s hard to get used to. By people he means Sousuke and Kisumi, but that’s still two above normal. Kisumi’s called him and left him a voicemail.

_Hey Haru. Gave you a few days since I know you usually need it after a show, but I don’t want to let months go by before we hang out again. Was thinking you might be free for lunch. Got something I want to talk about. Don’t worry, nothing embarrassing._

That stipulation is worrisome.

 _coffee?_ he texts. He isn’t that hungry, and if Kisumi wants to actually talk it’s easier over a beverage. 

_I’ll come to you! Shop by your place? Can be there in an hour._

He affirms it’s fine and starts to walk. He takes his time and finds a longer route to kill the time; the weather’s nice. When he steps through the door the bell chimes, and Kisumi waves him over to a corner table. He stops at the counter and orders a matcha latte for himself, and a black coffee for Kisumi, as well as a cookie to split and joins him at the table.

“Oh, thanks Haru,” Kisumi greets in surprise when Haruka slides him his coffee.

“Sure.” He breaks the cookie in half and pushes that to him as well. 

“Back to normal?” he asks.

Haruka nods. “Yeah. More or less.”

“Good.” He takes a sip of his coffee and jumps, taking in a sharp breath. “ _Hot._ Anyway. So the totally _in_ eligible bachelor Haru is somehow off the market. Or I’m assuming, since you haven’t _said_ anything about how your wonderful idea went over. But _I_ would’ve been won over, if I were in Sousuke’s position.”

Haruka shrugs. “It went well.”

“Well then congratulations! I’ll be happy _for_ you, you stone face.”

“I am happy,” Haruka argues with a frown.

He laughs. “I know, I know. You seem to be anyway. So what’s next?”

Haruka picks at his cookie. It’s not like Kisumi knows he’s already been asking himself that today, but it’s eerily on point. “I don’t know.”

“Well I’ve been thinking for you. First let me just ask. Do you want to do this painting thing forever?”

Haruka absently rolls his wrists as he answers. “I don’t mind it, but when I’m not working on anything I have a lot of down time.”

Kisumi waves it away. “We can always get you a hobby. But your _career._ It’s going to pick up again after what you sold. Have you checked your e-mail?”

“No.”

“Well guaranteed, you have at _least_ two inquiries. I’m only bringing this up because I think you might get in over your head if you’re not careful. These things snowball, you know, and if you don’t want to do this forever I want to help you have a fallback.”

Haruka is confused. He and Kisumi are good friends, but not intervene-in-each-other’s-lives good. “Why?”

Kisumi hums and starts to eat his cookie, pausing to dunk it in his coffee. “We’re friends. I was thinking about it the last few days, what that means, knowing how damn tired you probably were... I sort of pushed you into a lot of this, you know? I just want to look out for you. I’d be a bad friend to push your boat out to sea and not include a lifejacket with it.”

He blushes involuntarily at Kisumi’s unexpected earnestness. “Well I don’t really know what else to do,” Haruka confesses. He could probably paint in Sousuke’s living room forever, but that isn’t realistic.

“So hear me out then, since you don’t know. You have money, right? You’ve mentioned some sort of inheritance from someone who died, you still have a chunk from swimming, you just made a lot more. Knowing you, you’ll sit on it for the rest of your life and forget to pass it on to someone and the state’ll get it. So why don’t you do something with it? I’m a numbers guy. Can’t help but think this way.”

“Okay?”

“I think you could start a business. A studio or something. An official place to work, a storefront. Sell supplies, prints, teach classes, take commissions… et cetera, whatever else one does with such space.”

Haruka nearly grimaces. _“Why?”_

Kisumi smiles around a drink of his coffee. “I thought you’d respond that way. So second proposal: me.”

“I’m flattered, Kisumi, but I’m in a relationship and we’re assuming monogamy until discussed otherwise.”

He laughs and sets his cup down. “Cute. Let’s do it together though. I can handle the things you don’t like, you can handle the things I can’t do. We work well together, in my opinion, and I’m sort of sick of the college professor thing.”

“You’ve only been a professor for eight months,” Haruka points out.

“ _Details._ It isn’t for me. It’s stuffy. We keep doing shows on the side for some extra cash, but get a physical store thing going. You can even call it your weird Cascade Artworks thing. I don’t care, I don’t work in marketing. I can work part-time with the college until we really get going. These things don’t make any liveable wage right away. But they _could._ ”

It _almost_ isn’t the worst idea he’s ever heard.

“But only if you _really_ want to stay on this path,” Kisumi reiterates. “Shut me down now if you doubt it at all.”

“You want to use all of my money to start a business that might not go anywhere?” Haruka distills.

Kisumi grins. “I’m nothing if not shameless. But I’m also trustworthy, and I would never do anything to screw you over. I think this has potential. I’m right there with you if it doesn’t work, so it isn’t like I’m not putting myself at risk either. If it really makes you unsure, I’ll get a loan for half the start-up so we’re fifty-fifty. Then I’ll get fucked on interest and you’ll _have_ to know I’m committed then.”

Haruka sips at his drink in thought and lets a few minutes go by. He isn’t outwardly rejecting this, which is surprising. But some things aren’t quite where they need to be for him to commit or give this the thought it deserves. 

“Sousuke is still trying to find something to do,” Haruka finally says. “I can’t up-end everything and tie up my money until he’s stable.”

Kisumi looks surprised. “Oh, devoted to him already. So you’re considering it.”

“It’s _respectful_ of the other person. And I consider a lot of things at any given time,” Haruka answers noncommittally. 

“Well I don’t even want an answer until the end of the year,” Kisumi says. “I really want you to think about it, and of course I hope Sousuke gets his footing. And by then you’ll be settled with him too. All that’s still so new, I’m sure you’d rather you focus on that. I have to finish out this term anyway so I’m not even free until spring.”

Haruka hums in acknowledgement. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. That’s all I wanted from this meeting, really.”

Haruka eyes him suspiciously. “No it isn’t.”

Kisumi’s eyes light up, business demeanor gone and down the street in a blink. “You’re _totally_ right. Sleep with him?”

Haruka snorts. “Not yet. Not all the way.”

Kisumi slams his hands on the table. “When you do, I deserve a play-by-play.”

“You do not.”

He slams them down again. “I at least deserve to know when it happens.”

“Fine,” Haruka laughs.

-

_Inbox (10)_

Haruka huffs indignantly at his laptop screen. That is nine more e-mails than he really had the energy to deal with before bed. Kisumi wasn’t kidding. He probably should’ve checked them before he was half-asleep and nodding off under a blanket. 

_Mr. Nanase,_

_I was introduced to your art via the Ikaris and I must say I find it stunning. I-_

Haruka sighs and pushes the laptop down his legs with the intent to give up already, but drags it back up reluctantly after a moment.

_I work in interior design and have been looking for the right artist to help me put together a home I’m designing in the countryside. I’m looking for-_

“Landscapes,” Haruka mutters before he even reads it.

_-landscapes of the surrounding area, and perhaps a-_

“Field or village.”

_-sprawl of rolling hills or a depiction of the nearby town._

He clicks on the next e-mail and skims it for the key word

_-large canvas of the Rainbow Bridge-_

Okay, he might need to put a hard stop on paintings of that stupid bridge. Kisumi said something about prints. That would be a godsend. One-and-done of the bridge and people can buy copies, and Haruka keeps a piece of his soul. At least for this, Kisumi’s idea is enticing. 

Eight more. He grabs his phone off the nightstand.

 _i can’t read these,_ he sends in annoyance.

_?_

_emails,_ he clarifies.

 _oh. need help?_ Sousuke responds. 

_please._

_shameless, nanase._

Haruka blames Kisumi.

He knows he asked for Sousuke to come over, but he’s still sour about having to get out of bed to answer the door. It’s chilly tonight and he brings the blanket with him to let Sousuke in. Sousuke steps in with a duffel bag and kicks his shoes off.

“Presumptuous,” Haruka mumbles.

“Presumptuous? I think it’s a safe bet that I won’t fit into your clothes. Came prepared.”

Haruka glares.

“Oh, you meant presumptuous that I was spending the night?” Sousuke asks in mock-surprise. “Yeah, definitely.”

Haruka rolls his eyes and shuffles back to his bedroom.

“Unless you don’t want me to,” Sousuke calls as he follows behind him. 

He climbs back onto his bed and moves over for Sousuke. “Idiot. How was work?”

“Awful.” Sousuke tosses his bag against a wall and flops down next to him. “ _Jesus_ this bed is way too soft how do you even crawl out of this?”

“No it isn’t,” Haruka argues. “Yours is just made of sheet rock.”

He sits up with an exaggerated struggle. “This is an incompatibility I can’t abide. It’s basically a character flaw.”

“Stop being so old. Only old people whine about beds.” Haruka grabs his laptop and places it on Sousuke’s lap, then burrows into his side and under his arm. He smells like soap and clean linens. Simple like his food.

“Aww you were serious?” Sousuke whines, opening the computer, one arm awkwardly reaching around Haruka to do so. “I gotta read these to you?”

“They’re boring. I can’t read them all.” He reaches forward and uses the trackpad to open the next one down the list.

Sousuke clears his throat. _“Mr. Nanase,”_ he says haughtily, _“first I would like to congratulate you on your showing. Your work stuck out. I was interested in commissioning a piece for my wife, as her birthday falls on the first day of spring-_ wait do people seriously talk like this?”

“The rich ones.”

He sighs. _“I’ve attached photos, I’d like a portrait. Please call me to discuss pricing. Hope to hear from you, Saji Tadashi.”_ Sousuke instinctually clicks the attached photo before Haruka can warn him and they’re both greeted with a screen of bare skin. “Oh holy shit!” he yells with a laugh, closing the shell half-way to obscure it. _“Yikes.”_

Haruka laughs. “I get those sometimes.”

“Do you accept them?!” he asks in alarm.

“No. It’s too weird.” He turns the laptop away from Sousuke and closes out of the professional photograph of Tadashi’s nude wife, planning on replying tomorrow to decline sternly and politely.

“No wonder you didn’t want to read these.” Sousuke clicks on the next one. 

“Close it. Next,” Haruka sighs, seeing _‘Rainbow’_ right away.

He shrugs and continues on. One Tokyo Tower, two more bridges, a misdirected request to paint someone’s entire house, and three actually reasonable inquiries later worth a thought when he isn’t half asleep, Haruka lets out a sigh of relief.

“You gonna do most of these?”

“Maybe three or so.” He yawns and closes the computer, then reaches to drop it onto the nightstand. “I don’t want to paint the bridge.”

“I don’t see why it’s so popular.”

He shrugs. “Waiting rooms. Oh, I saw Kisumi today.”

Sousuke slouches down a little and Haruka’s able to lie his head on his chest. “He want another show?”

Haruka shakes his head in denial. “He wants to go into business with me.”

“Oh. Uh, well that’s interesting?”

“I said I’d think about it. Doing what I do now, just more professionally I guess. He could handle money and people,” he explains, tracing a wavy pattern onto Sousuke’s stomach.

Sousuke laughs and it’s solid under Haruka’s ear. “So he could read your e-mails. I see.”

“Mmhmm. But it wouldn’t be until next year.”

Sousuke rests his head on top of Haruka’s. “You think it’s a good idea?”

“It’s not an entirely _bad_ one. I haven’t decided if it’s _good_ yet, though.”

He hums in thought. “Well I got nothing better to do, want me to mock you up a plan? Start-up and other ballpark costs. See if you could even get that far.”

He stops tracing and sits up to see him. “Would you?”

“Of course,” Sousuke shrugs. “Might as well get something useful out of my four years of misery learning how to do all that. I’ve made a metric fuck-ton of business plans.”

Haruka smiles a little. “Okay. He doesn’t want an answer until the end of the year.”

“I’m sure I’m competent enough to get one together before then,” he chuckles. “We’ll work on it together; I’ll need help with exactly what you’ll need. When we _aren’t_ in bed about to sleep, preferably.”

Haruka leans forward and kisses him softly. He’s warm, and the tip of Haruka’s nose is cold against his cheek. His similarly warm hands find the sides of Haruka’s face, and Sousuke adjusts and rubs the edges of his ears instead. “You’re one of those guys that’s always cold, aren’t you?”

“Mmm,” he hums, back against Sousuke’s lips. “And what does my business consultant charge for his services?” Haruka murmurs, skipping to his jaw line. Sousuke reaches forward for his leg and pulls Haruka over him. Haruka continues down his neck and pulls the collar of his shirt down to get at the hollow of his throat.

“Only you would- _ah-_ try to make something like that sound sul- _try,_ ” Sousuke gasps. Haruka slinks downward and pushes his shirt up, kissing down his sternum and stopping above his navel. “Prices are negotiable,” he breathes out in a rush, threading a hand in Haruka’s hair.

Haruka hooks his fingers under Sousuke’s waistband. “Let me get out of debt first.”

-

Haruka responds to his e-mails the following morning as he waits for Sousuke to wake up beside him. He ultimately agrees to only two jobs. A portrait of cats which Makoto will love and fishing shack in a village. He’s not sure where that last one came from but it sounds pleasant enough. The rest were things he didn’t want to do or couldn’t do. This is probably why he might need Kisumi if this is supposed to go anywhere. It probably isn’t good business to turn down reasonable commissions just because he doesn’t feel like doing them.

Sousuke stirs when his phone rings from across the room. “Ugh.”

“Want me to get it?”

“Mmmmph.”

Haruka shuts his laptop since it’s going to die soon anyway and quickly clambers over Sousuke to his bag, and hands him his phone by pushing it into his half open hand. Sousuke answers it on the last ring.

“Yeah?” he answers gruffly. Haruka sees him go rigid and sit up in a flash. “No no, Ms. Ukimura, this is fine. I’m not busy.” He looks at Haruka in near-terror. “Mmmhmm. Yeah! Of course that’s- that’s great- I- say the word. The first? Okay. I can do it. Okay. Perfect. Thank you so much.” He hangs up and stares at his phone for a moment. “I did it,” he says in disbelief.

“Hm?” Haruka presses. 

“I did it. I start October first. With Gou. At that clinic. Well, not _with_ Gou. The parent hospital. Data Analyst in the building behind where finance is.” He smiles wide at Haruka. “I can quit that shit store, I’m one step closer to what I want to do at least I’m in the industry now- I. Wow.” He laughs. “That’s _such_ a fucking weight off and I mean I know I _said_ I’d scrub their toilets but I really didn’t want to and this is something _I can do.”_

Haruka’s shoulders slump with relief and he smiles back. “I’m happy for you.”

Sousuke pulls a sort of victory fist to his core with his phone clenched in his hand, throws it at the floor, jumps out of bed, and snatches up his duffel bag.

Haruka blinks after him in surprise, not used to this energy level. “Going somewhere?”

“Yeah. Come with me, we’re gonna brush our teeth and make out all fucking morning and then we’re going to lunch and then we’re going to swim and be inappropriate in the showers then come back here and watch a movie on T.V. and that’s really as far as I’ve gotten in twenty seconds but feel free to add on to it,” he rambles out and down the hall. 

Haruka laughs out loud and shakes a hand through his tangled hair, sliding off the bed to join him. He adds on a homemade dinner with a nice sake that they stop by the store for ingredients for, a dessert they can’t finish, and a walk through the park as the sun goes down. When they bundle up on Haruka’s couch that evening and watch another movie, they both swear to never, _ever_ tell Rin about all of it before falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iskabee @ tumblr


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke ties up some loose ends.

“It’s Makoto’s birthday next week.”

Sousuke look up from his hunch over his laptop and squints into the natural light streaming in through the living room window, then over to Haruka who’s on the couch. “Oh, want to send him a card or something?”

Haruka draws his mouth into a line and pulls the blanket up to his chin. “...I don’t know.”

Sousuke stretches his arms above his head and twists out the compression that’s settled between his shoulder blades and pushes the laptop away from him. “I’m sure he’d appreciate the acknowledgement,” he suggests. “Doesn’t mean you’re ready.”

“I don’t know what I am.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No,” Haruka mumbles into the blanket.

“Okay, well just let me know.” He turns back to his computer from his spot on the ground at the coffee table and stares a little longer at his spreadsheet before realizing he’s forgotten an entire concept. “Ah shit. Hey, what do you think you’ll need as far as carpentry stuff?”

“I don’t want to take that up commercially. I like having all of my fingers.”

Sousuke grimaces. “Good point. Sorry this is taking me so long.”

“You’ve been busy and I haven’t been much help with it. It’s fine.”

Sousuke hums and returns his focus to his work. This thing is fucking _long._ He had no idea Kisumi and Haruka were looking to do so damn much. But Kisumi prattled on and Sousuke wrote it all down. It’s taken a lot of research. He isn’t familiar with… whatever they might call this. Some hybrid retail-studio thing. He _still_ isn’t one-hundred percent sure. That’s Kisumi and Haruka, he supposes. Totally nondescript for different reasons. Kisumi for information overload and Haruka for next to no information at all. It’s been frustrating and challenging and he hopes Haruka hasn’t noticed him pulling his hair out over it. But at least there’s an end in sight now. On paper, it could break even. It might not ever pull a _huge_ profit, but it can cover itself potentially. Profit is variable, considering the nature of commission work. Supplies and lessons cover operating costs. If they sell, of course.

“What if we offered wall space to other artists and took off twenty percent of what they sell?” Sousuke muses, looking for anything else that might be do-able to kick the whole idea out of the black and into the green. He feels like he’s proposed this before already. It may even already be in the plan somewhere. It’s starting to blur together.

“Sure,” Haruka answers. 

He frowns. “Did you even think about it or did you just answer me because you heard the tone of a question?”

“Sure.”

“Haruka,” Sousuke grumbles, breaking his focus again and looking over at him. His face is covered by the blanket but his eyes peek over mischievously. Sousuke shakes his head and looks back to the screen. 

“Ask Kisumi. I don’t know. I’m just the artist.”

“So you’ve said about a million times,” Sousuke mutters.

“Well you’d think you’d pick up on it then.”

Sousuke huffs in frustration and saves his work before closing the laptop. “All right. I got the message. You want me to stop.”

“Took you long enough,” Haruka scoffs. 

Sousuke haphazardly moves papers and books out of his immediate area and rolls onto his back, splays his arms out, and kicks his legs straight under the table. “I’m sorry, Haruka, I can only work on this on the weekends. At least until I figure out what the fuck I’m doing at work and can start to get off on time.”

“I know. But it’s been a few hours.”

“Has it?” He angles his head back to look into the kitchen. Three hours. “Oh. I’m just close to being done with it. Finished the SWOT, the cost tables are in, projections, models, statements… trying to wrap it up, I guess. The variances are difficult to pin... down...”

Haruka makes a long drawn out noise of disinterest escalating in volume until Sousuke stops. 

“ _Okay,_ god.”

“It’s Sunday,” Haruka sighs. 

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“So why are you still on the floor?”

Sousuke pouts over to him. “I sat here too long. Now I can’t move.”

Haruka stubbornly settles deeper into the couch. “I’m not lying on the floor.”

“Cold blooded,” Sousuke says, letting his eyes slip shut. They sting at the corners from how long he’s had them glued to his computer screen. Haruka is _grumpy._ Sousuke gives it thirty seconds before he spills what’s eating him or stomps away in a huff to lie down in Sousuke’s bed. 

“I don’t miss him.” Twenty-two seconds.

Sousuke cracks an eye to look at him, but he’s fixated out the window. 

“I should, shouldn’t I? Shouldn’t I just be aching to talk to him? It’s nearly been three months. And at first it was so hard and now it isn’t.”

“Of course you miss him,” Sousuke corrects. “But it isn’t the same as like… I don’t know, it’s not the same sort of missing someone you’d expect to feel if they were there every day and then they weren’t. He was already far away, and he didn’t go anywhere.”

Haruka grumbles in disagreement. “I barely even think about him anymore. I only remembered his birthday was coming up because Gou texted me to confirm it.”

Sousuke nods to himself and thinks about how best to talk about this. “It happens, Haruka. It doesn’t mean you’re any less close, but you’re not… attached anymore? It’s not a bad thing. You just have your own gig now. When you talk again it’s gonna feel like dinner for two. I promise.”

“I was just so afraid of this happening…” Haruka trails off. “Growing so far apart.”

“I think you might be combining two concepts,” Sousuke tries to level without sounding condescending. “You’re just more independent now. Not growing apart.”

“I’m not stupid,” Haruka snaps. “You’re not listening.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. I-” 

Haruka sighs loudly and irritably and disappears under the blanket.

“Haruka,” Sousuke soothes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything other than what I said.” 

He speaks, but it’s muffled and Sousuke can’t make it out. “I can’t hear you. You gotta let me in or come out.” Haruka answers by standing with the blanket and walking away to Sousuke’s bedroom. Sousuke frowns and follows him.

“Hey, Haruka,” he tries again, sliding in behind him.

“I’m okay,” Haruka mutters. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I snapped at you.”

Sousuke rubs a circle on his back. “Because I’ve been ignoring you all day and you’re probably hungry.”

Haruka lets out a long exhale and relaxes. “I’ll send him a card,” he says to end the discussion.

“I think he’ll like that.”

“I do miss him,” he continues. “It’s just different like you said. I want to talk to him eventually. Just not yet.”

“Then you will. And I promise when you do, you’re not going to feel this way. Trust me on this; I would know.”

Haruka flips and lies flat on his back. “Okay. I want pizza.”

“What kind?”

He levels _that_ look at Sousuke without turning his head.

“ _No._ What else?”

“Half and half,” Haruka barters.

“It leaks,” Sousuke whines. “I can taste the pineapple all the way into the crust of my half.”

“You don’t even eat the crusts.”

“That has… _nothing_ to do wi-” He sighs. “Fine. Only because I accidentally blew three hours working.” He rolls and grabs his phone to order from where it’s been sitting on the nightstand since earlier in the day. Haruka inches to him and pushes up his shirt and mouths around his ribs as it is his absolute _favorite_ past time to bother Sousuke while he is on the phone, he learned within fifteen hours of of getting into a relationship with him. Rin wasn’t amused. 

When he unlocks it, eight missed calls from an unknown number greet him. He frowns and tries to place the digits when it rings again in his hand with the same caller.

“...Hello?” he answers hesitantly. Haruka stops and looks up curiously.

“You need to answer your phone,” comes the clipped response.

He closes his eyes and takes deep, deep breath. She is fucking _lucky_ Haruka is with him. “Mom.”

“Your father’s dead. Heart attack. His wake is tomorrow and his funeral is the following day. Since you are not in the picture, I’ve had it arranged. Will you be attending?”

Sousuke sighs wearily and pinches the inside corners of his eyes. “When and where?” 

“Wake is all day tomorrow. Eleven in the morning the following day for the funeral. _His_ house, of course, why would I have it at _mine_?”

“I can’t get there in time for the wake. I’ll go to the funeral,” he answers dully.

“Whatever you want. Consider staying at an inn. I don’t have room for you.” She hangs up. 

Haruka’s brows are knit together in concern when Sousuke finally opens his eyes again to look at him. “I uh… my dad died,” he says clearly, thinking it sounds hollow and distant. “I need to leave for Shizuoka tomorrow. After work, probably.”

Haruka is searching his face for a reaction, but Sousuke doesn’t really have one. “...Should you go to work?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s fine… I just… I don’t know... ” he trails off. “Sorry I just don’t really know how to feel, I guess.” He told Haruka that he doesn’t have a relationship with his parents, so hopefully it doesn’t come as a surprise to him that he isn’t immediately sad or upset.

“Can I do anything?” Haruka asks helplessly.

“No,” Sousuke answers. “I’ll just go… stay overnight tomorrow and come back late on Tuesday. They won’t want me around longer than that. None of them like me.”

“I’ll go with you.”

He shakes his head. “No. Just stay here. No one needs to put up with that shit if they don’t have to. They’ll hate you by association.”

Haruka frowns and takes Sousuke’s phone from his hand. “...I’m going to go,” he says as he thumbs through something on the screen. He puts the phone to his ear and Sousuke raises an eyebrow. “Hi. I’d like to order a pizza. Delivery. Large. Pork sausage. That’s it.”

-

“ _Again,_ feet off the fucking dashboard.”

Haruka snorts and sits up. “Are we there yet?”

Sousuke glares at him. “ _Yes,_ actually.”

“Did you get us a room? Are you sure? Did you ask for candy on the pillows?”

He twists at the steering wheel in a tight grip. “ _Haruka._ I know you’re just doing this to be annoying.”

“I have to pee.”

Sousuke ignores him. They’re close now and since they didn’t get on the road until after it was already dark, he’s getting tired and just wants to get there as quickly as possible. 

“Did you get a single or a double?” Haruka continues.

Sousuke sighs. “A single.”

“What if they kick us out?” He glances to the side and sees Haruka worrying at his lip with his teeth.

“...Then I’ll kick whoever’s ass. I am in no mood.”

“My name helps,” Haruka mumbles irritably.

Sousuke frowns. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Haruka is suddenly silent after nearly twenty solid minutes of teasing Sousuke. “...It’s weird when you have to go outside your bubble, huh?” he tries. “You forget there’s a different world outside of your friends and home and it fucking sucks.”

Haruka hums in unenthusiastic agreement. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

He takes a turn down a familiar street towards the inn he’s always stayed in whenever he’s had no choice but to come back here. He nearly feels claustrophobic just being in this city. Haruka doesn’t talk anymore and Sousuke keeps his eyes on the road, searching for the familiar sign until he sees it backlit a ways down. The parking garage is small but only half-full. Haruka hovers outside the building while Sousuke checks in and gets their key, and they try to shuffle unnoticed to the elevator, Haruka standing close so he can be obscured from the side. Maybe the staff is okay with it, maybe they’re not, but they don’t have the freedom of finding out and ending up wrong. Sousuke fucking hates it, worse now that he can see Haruka’s pinched expression over it, but he’s got enough to deal with in the next twelve hours and can’t find it in him to devote the anger to it that he would otherwise. 

“Ta-da,” Sousuke says sarcastically, throwing the door open to a bland off-white room with a yellow lamp on the nightstand. He hangs their suits up that he’s carried separately on the towel rack in the bathroom. “No shitty art and we share a bed, so at least it’s a step up from California?” he tries to joke.

“There’s no candy.” Haruka puts his bag on the bed and strips to change into pajamas. It’s nearly eleven now and late for him, and Sousuke’s surprised he hasn’t caught him yawning yet. 

Sousuke uses the bathroom for his standard night routine and changes into his usual loose pants before flopping onto the bed and closing his eyes while Haruka finishes getting ready for bed as well. He’s snapped out of a half-doze when the other crawls over him and begins to kiss him- _hard_ \- without any warning. 

“W-wait,” Sousuke stammers once he can pull away. “Haruka I didn’t bring-”

Haruka cuts him off with another kiss and a snap of his hips. “I did,” he rasps. “I _hate_ this.” 

Sousuke knows he looks guilty even though Haruka isn’t blaming him for anything. They kept their bed, no one cared, Sousuke’s content with that. But Haruka hates that he even let the idea get to him, is more what he’s trying to say. “I’m sorry,” Sousuke says, bringing a hand to his face. 

“Please,” Haruka says quietly.

Sousuke nods and pulls him back close, and Haruka continues fervently. They’ve had sex a few times now, but not out of anything other than lightheartedness with a heavy helping of playful banter. Now Haruka is ferocious and upset and Sousuke can’t even keep up with it with his own mind running in circles over needing to even be in this fucking city, with these terrible people, for someone he doesn’t care for. So he submits and goes under and stops thinking of himself and focuses on nothing but Haruka. Nothing but helping him cope with this annoying reality. He makes sure Haruka hears him, as well as whatever other potential asshole happens to walk by their fucking door at the right time. As he said, he is in no mood.

Haruka sleeps close to him, nearly passing out before he can clean up, even though he usually wouldn’t and prefers to keep to his side. Sousuke’s just relieved that he seems to be feeling better as he sleepily bids him goodnight. He leans over and gives him one last lazy, drawn out kiss, that Haruka sighs into before drifting off, and when Sousuke parts and lies down to sleep he thinks for the first time that he might love him.

\- 

The following morning he dresses in black and so does Haruka. Sousuke’s terrified. He could’ve put up with all of them alone. But now he has Haruka, who refuses to stay behind. Someone, somewhere at this fucking thing is going to try their hardest to hurt him because that’s what they do. He can’t even button his shirt up as long as he’s thinking about it. It makes him too angry. Haruka reaches over with a sigh and does it for him. 

“Stop,” he says.

“They’ll be awful.”

Haruka shakes his head. “It’s okay if they are.”

“No it isn’t. It’s never fucking okay and they do it anyway.”

“Sousuke,” Haruka says uncharacteristically sternly, stepping away as he finishes buttoning. “I don’t _care_. We’re not here for them.”

Sousuke deflates a little bit and picks a stray hair off the shoulder of Haruka’s suit jacket. “This looked better on you at the art show.”

“Gee, thanks,” Haruka says with an eyeroll and a turn to get his shoes on. “You know, I can hold my own against shitty parents,” he adds. “If you didn’t notice, mine are nowhere to be found.”

Sousuke shuts up at the sound of Haruka’s sharp and venomous words and takes a deep breath. He’s right about that. Sousuke _still_ doesn’t need anyone treating Haruka like garbage, though. “Sometimes I wonder which situation is worse; abandonment or unapologetic disdain.”

“It’s not a contest I feel like participating in,” Haruka says with a hard, angry pull to his laces. He stands and looks Sousuke up and down to make sure they’re both ready. 

Unfortunately, they are, and it doesn’t take nearly enough time to drive there in Sousuke’s opinion. They park down the street and out of the way and Sousuke takes another five minutes to lightly hit his forehead against the steering wheel until Haruka pushes him towards the door impatiently.

They walk through the threshold to his father’s traditional house packed full of people and Sousuke suddenly hates his imposing size. The new incense and the scent still lingering from the day prior chokes him and makes his eyes sting. Everyone looks at him... everyone looks away from him. Aunts, uncles, cousins too young to even know what he did wrong. The estranged first son who’s dragged the family name through the mud socially _and_ professionally in his quest to be even a little bit happy. They _all_ know it, they’ve _all_ been told. Haruka simply tugs at the hem of his jacket in offered support, glares at anyone who stares at him for too long, and clears his throat loudly over anyone who can’t figure out the volume on their fucking voice. _Traditional_ families, especially his brand of traditional family, can go fuck themselves. 

Sousuke stalks quietly to the bowl of incense and picks one out for himself. Haruka pokes him for one as well, and he’s in no place to argue it. The line is long to pay respects and they tack onto the end. He doesn’t expect he’ll be summoned to the front per tradition, anyway. No point in seeking out his mother to ask. 

At the front of the line, Haruka drops his incense with Sousuke, and prays and bows with him too. Sousuke didn’t hate his father. He hated how he rubbed his money in Sousuke’s face, how he let him dictate his life for a while, but Sousuke’s father was never outright _mean_ to him until he quit the former family company the way he did and he found out. His anger was justified even if what he said wasn’t, Sousuke has to admit. He didn’t handle it maturely. Still, he wasn’t nurturing or loving or even around most of the time, and Sousuke barely knew him. At the very least he only hopes he passed quickly. He figures that’s a respectable prayer given the situation.

They turn and bow to his mother, his step-mother, and his father’s brother standing in for the spot of the eldest son, and Sousuke doesn’t look at any of their faces as he does it. He just wants to go home; back to the big city where no one has time to give a shit about what he does with his life. He does look to Haruka on a whim and sees he straightens from his bow and stares Sousuke’s mother _dead in the fucking eye_ , apparently thinking Sousuke wouldn’t notice it, before turning to him with an innocently vacant expression. Sousuke nearly groans at Haruka’s unexpected rebellious act of instigation, but also finds it sort of great in the midst of all of this bullshit.

Neither assume they’ll be staying or are even welcome for any more of the ceremony, and Sousuke leads Haruka out with the whispers at their backs pushing them along. A three hour drive for a twenty minute tradition. But this is just about Sousuke’s personal limit for his family anyway. No one said anything directly to him and they still managed to treat him like shit.

“Sousuke.”

He and Haruka stop walking and Sousuke sighs before turning around to his mother that’s tailed him out. He hasn’t even seen her in over six years, and is pleased to see she still looks just as mean as she is. It’s honestly disheartening how much Sousuke takes after her, and he hopes he doesn’t look _that_ unapproachable.

“Yeah,” he answers.

She stands stiffly. “He respected you despite everything. Thank you for coming,” she says with some degree of difficulty.

He laughs a beat in disbelief and shakes his head. “Sure, mom.”

“You’re still in the will. He didn’t get around to changing it. I won’t fight it. The lawyer will call you if he needs anything.”

Sousuke looks at the ground and back up at her. Fuck this, fuck her. He’s not giving her the satisfaction of his disappointment. “Mom, this is Haruka,” he introduces, stepping to the side so she can’t ignore him. “He’s a professional artist, and we’ve been together a few months. He makes me very happy.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Haruka greets with a polite, submissive bow this time. “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

She stares Haruka down disdainfully for a moment but relents quickly. Apparently even she can’t bring herself to be the fucking hellspawn she typically is on the day of her ex-husband’s funeral. “You as well.”

There’s enough silence in the air that it may as well be a fourth sentient being standing with them. “Okay, well, until the next death,” Sousuke breaks, fixing to leave. Haruka’s already walking. 

His mother clicks her tongue. “I’m sorry we were never the family we could’ve been,” she says clumsily with foreign-sounding sadness before Sousuke can turn all the way around. Haruka keeps on towards the car.

He looks over his shoulder at her and shrugs. “A little late for that.”

“I know.”

Haruka gives him ten minutes instead of five this time to sit and stare wordlessly out the windshield before taking the keys from his loose grip and starting the car for him.

-

Sousuke doesn’t let it _totally_ destroy the rest of his week. Haruka stays with him, though, and he appreciates it. If he’s honest, he’s getting good sex out of it, his mother didn’t outright tell him to fuck off and was probably the most ‘pleasant’ she’s ever been, his job has been accommodating though he turned down the opportunity to take more time off, and it all could be worse. By Friday, he’s feeling _okay_ again. Just in time for something else to go wrong before the weekend, he figures gloomily as he gets ready for the day.

He’s hoping whatever he needs to do today is mindless. It turns out to include what’ll likely be four solid hours of meticulous organization with labels and pivot chart construction to display it all in a pleasing, easy to read manner for some administrative meeting he does not have to present at.

Perfect.

The hospital he’s working for uses millions of yen’s worth of data pulling programs to make it all accessible, but it takes a fucking rocket scientist to figure out just _how_ the fuck to run those reports. When they pull, they’re a mess, and there’s an entire job dedicated to making it presentable: his job. Fewer things could be tailored to his skillset better. Or in this case today, his mood. 

The learning curve has been steep and infuriating and he thought he was in over his head the first few days. Finance isn’t quite the same as this field, after all, and the person he replaced was already gone when he started and no one had a whole lot of time to teach him what to do. It’s been a long month. But today he feels better about it. It’s getting easier.

At some point he needs to take lunch and picks up a bento from the cafeteria before heading outside to eat it. He thumbs through the news on his phone for a bit to try and keep himself from being a needier boyfriend than he’s already been the last few days and calling Haruka and receives a text from Gou as he takes a sip of his cola.

_want to shadow tonight? i work late clinic._

Sousuke sets his drink down and responds quickly: _yeah._

He’s been wanting to shadow her for ages and it just never lines up. This will be perfect, and a positive way to end this week from absolute hell. It would help to decide if he wants to pursue this dream if he could actually physically see what he’d be getting into. Something good can come of all of this still.

_see you at 6._

Sousuke shoots a quick text letting Haruka know and returns to his desk a little early from lunch to make sure he can finish in time to get a good few hours of shadowing in. Five minutes till six he’s bouncing his knee impatiently, entering a few more points of data in that didn’t line up under the right header of the report he pulled.

“Good,” he says out loud after a few minutes and closes down. He throws his coat on and shuffle-jogs from the building and into the cold dark, quickly crossing the street and rounding the clinic building. Gou is waiting for him in the lobby with a trashy magazine and stands to greet him. He pulls her into a quick hug and offers a lopsided smile.

“Hey! How’s the job?”

“Better,” he breathes. “Catching my stride.”

She returns his smile and checks her watch. “Good. We only have a few minutes until my next appointment. Come on, let me show you the exam room. I guess you’re probably familiar with that just from being a patient. But it can’t hurt anyway.” 

Gou shows him the exam table and a few reflex instruments she might use, but mostly it’s a lot of talking to the patient and physical adjustment and different stress tests. There’s a hallway with rails for walking just outside and she quickly shows him a few other rooms with exercise equipment like treadmills and home medical equipment like walkers and wheelchairs. It’s a nice clinic, he thinks, and seems to have the funds for a lot of things the one he goes to for his shoulder doesn’t. 

The assistant has already done intake on Gou’s next patient, and informs her of it right outside the exam room. Gou nods and opens the door, waving Sousuke in behind her, and greets her patient. She’s a middle-aged woman Gou refers to familiarly as Kiyoko, who smiles tiredly and agrees to Sousuke being there. He introduces himself with a stutter, suddenly nervous, because of course he is.

Kiyoko injured her back in a car accident two years ago and progress has been slow, from what Sousuke gathers. She doesn’t move well- seems to have walked in on a cane- and Gou has to help lift her onto the table. She starts by helping Kiyoko stretch her hamstrings, asking little questions as she goes to find her limits.

Gou moves and pushes and lifts a lot to help Kiyoko stretch and make progress over the next thirty minutes and something settles heavy on the edge of Sousuke’s mind about all of this as he watches her work.

She walks Kiyoko out and Sousuke stays behind, and when she returns Sousuke’s staring pensively at the floor.

“How was that?”

He looks up and nods. “It was interesting. She seemed very nice.”

“She’s been through a lot. But she makes progress. We’re hoping to at least get her off the cane, as a goal. I think I have like three more appointments. You want to stay for them?”

He agrees, but reluctantly. 

Her next patient has a hip-socket injury from some sport, and she walks him to the exercise room to watch his gait on the treadmill. He’s slow, and he’s bigger than her, and when he slips she has to spring and reach forward and catch him and his weight.

Another patient needs a leg lifted high and straight up and then needs help getting into a swing in the equipment room for further stretching and adjustment.

The last is a heavier man with a degenerative disc disease that comes to see Gou to try and keep his back as limber as he can.

She _lifts._

She _reaches._

She _pulls._

She does a whole lot of fucking work with her _shoulders_ , and Sousuke’s throat is dry and his stomach is in knots by the time the last patient leaves. Yeah, this really is the week from hell. He doesn’t know why he thought it could’ve been anything different. 

“That was actually a lot of work tonight,” Gou says with a yawn after she’s signed off on her notes another forty minutes later. Sousuke’s been sitting near her in numb silence. “Let’s get out of here.” She swings by the break room and gets her coat and bag and Sousuke follows her out. It’s completely dark now with only streetlights to guide them and they’re the only ones on this path. 

“You’re quiet. What did you think?” she pries once they’re outside. 

He stops walking. “I… can’t do it.”

She turns to him and frowns. “Huh?”

“I can’t do that,” he says thickly. “I can’t do that either.”

Gou steps a little closer. “Sousuke? I don’t understand.”

“I need to go home. Thanks Gou,” he answers, turning and starting down the path towards his car.

“Wait! Sousuke!”

He almost runs, because he almost doesn’t want to deal with this, knowing what it’s about to blow up into. But he doesn’t. He _wants_ to scream about this. He _wants_ to be upset because he’s allowed to be. He’s allowed to be angry and indignant over this because it isn’t fucking fair.

“Sousuke!” Gou shouts after him more urgently. He hears her footsteps quicken to a run and then she’s grabbing him by the sleeve of his coat.

Sousuke whips around with a high pitched ring in his ears keeping him from catching his words as they fly out, loud and angry. “I can’t fucking do that, Gou! I can’t _lift_ I can’t _pull_ I can’t fucking do it!” he roars. “The _only_ thing I wanted to fucking do after I’d already been told _no_ , after I’d already accepted that I couldn’t swim, and _I can’t fucking do it!_ ”

She stares at him in shock and drops his sleeve. “Oh… Sousuke… I didn’t even...”

“Yeah. Me either. I’m such an idiot,” he laughs. “I never even thought of that. Never crossed my mind, not once, that a career built around moving dead weight around long-term might fucking be _bad_ for me.”

“There are other subspecialties-”

“It’s not what I _wanted!_ ” he cries. “Gou, it’s not what I wanted! If I was going to just end up having to _settle_ I never would’ve left H &A!”

“Yes you would’ve!” she argues back. “It’s not the end of the world, Sousuke! You have-”

“ _What do you know?!_ ” he shouts. 

“ _Stop_ it!” she snaps, stomping her foot down. “Stop _yelling_ at me! I didn’t do this to you!”

“I know! _Fuck!_ ” He clenches his jaw until he feels he might crack his teeth and tries to draw in steadying breaths through his nose and fails. “Fuck. I just, I wanted it, I wanted to do it, I would’ve gone back to school-” he chokes and rubs angrily at his eyes. “I would’ve been _good_ at it I just know it.”

Gou sighs and backs down. “I can’t reach you from down here so we need to find a bench.” She tugs his sleeve and walks him to the side of the path, settling for a concrete half-wall when a bench isn’t in the area. Sousuke falls onto it and drops his head into his hands over his knees while she reaches over to rub his back. “I’m sorry, Sou. I didn’t think of that either and I should’ve.”

He shakes his head from his position. “Sometimes I just feel like no matter what I do to make it happen, I’m not allowed to be happy.”

“Shh,” she hushes. “Don’t say things like that. This is one thing. You should be so lucky it wasn’t Haruka you said that to just now.”

“My dad died on Sunday,” he blurts out unbidden.

“...What?”

“He died and I don’t even care, Gou. The funeral was a fucking mess and I’ve tried to keep it together and I thought I was okay but this? This is all I can take this week.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she says sadly.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. At least I was invited, isn’t that what I said?” Sousuke pauses to laugh bitterly. “God what is _wrong_ with me.”

She tugs at his tie until he relents and lets her hug him. He hides his face on her shoulder and lets go. Just for a little while, just this one time it would be nice to cry, and it’s better Gou than anyone else. “It all sucks and it’s not fair, Sou,” she consoles as she strokes his hair. “It really isn’t. I’m sorry.”

Sousuke nods against her through his muffled sobbing and lets it out as loudly as he figures he has in a decade or so. He stays put until his breathing starts to even out, at least, and he’s reduced to hitches and hiccups. Gou keeps up her gentle petting long after he stills, and his harsh and shaky sigh is cue for her to keep talking. “I know you didn’t care for him. You were brave to go to his funeral, however awful it was. It was the right thing to do.” 

“Haruka came with me,” he mumbles. He’s not sure how it’s relevant, but it’s all he can think to say in response. “I wasn’t alone.”

“You let him. That’s good, Sou. You have all of us, you know... me and Rin… especially Haruka now. You’ve always had our family to borrow and now you have your own.”

His eyes water again and he screws them shut. “I know.”

“And you have a _good_ job right now. Maybe it isn’t your dream, but you can find that somewhere else, I think.”

“I know.”

She stills the hand on his head and grabs him by the shoulders and pushes him back to look at him. “So I’m going to say this and I know it’s not fair of me to ask of you when you’re hurting, but be sad for a little bit longer because you deserve to be and then I want you to move on, okay? There’s still more for you out there. You have support and resources and people who love you _so much_. You’ll kick ass at this job just as much as you would’ve at one like mine. What I do isn’t perfect either. There would have been things you hated about it, guaranteed. I know it isn’t your idea of utopia but reality rarely will be.”

Sousuke feels his pulse fall back to baseline. She’s right, and it’s not like Sousuke doesn’t suffer from a grass-is-greener perspective at times. There will _always_ be things he dislikes about every job, everything he’ll _ever_ do. Right now he doesn’t have a lot to complain about for where he’s at, and that’s not so bad. Everything just happened at once and he wasn’t prepared. He was caught off guard since things have been going _so well_ otherwise. He's been so happy he tripped over the sort of crap that used to be _common_ in his life. It really _could_ be worse.

“I’m sorry I yelled. I can get really focused on one negative thing and sometimes I can’t stop it and all this just boiled over with my family bullshit.”

“It’s okay.” She smiles and pats him on the cheek. “I brought you back to earth quicker than I’ve been able to in the past, though, didn’t I? You’re getting better at this.”

He huffs and rubs the residual tears from his eyes and the chilly air starts to cool his face. “I’ll be okay. I just needed a second to get it out.”

Gou smiles and tucks loose hair behind her ear. “Shit happens and we all have to cry stubbornly about it on occasion. And hey, I don’t like these work polos anyway,” she says, pulling at the damp spot of fabric on her shoulder.

He manages a laugh. “It’s not a nice color. Orange is a little loud.”

“Ugh, and with my hair sometimes I just feel like a highlighter,” she sighs. “Oh well. We should get home. It’s late. I’m tired. But you should call me this weekend anyway so I can make sure you’re okay.”

He nods. “I will.” 

They stand and Sousuke stoops to pick her up into a tight embrace. “Thanks, shortcake, as always.”

“Anytime, as always.”

-

He enters quietly in case Haruka’s already asleep, but he finds him lounging on the couch watching the television.

“Hey,” he sighs, unable to keep the downtempo out of his voice.

Haruka looks to him and cocks his head. “How’d it go?”

He holds up a hand to pause the conversation. “Shower. You don’t want me right now.”

He frowns but shrugs, and lets Sousuke go. Sousuke gets the evidence of his breakdown off of his face with a vigorous scrub and takes his time in the shower to try and get himself to calm down more. Haruka wouldn’t care necessarily, but he’s been taking care of Sousuke all week already and after his talk with Gou and a thoughtful drive home, he’s sick of being upset over all of this.

He joins Haruka on the couch and lays his head over his lap, facing his stomach, too tired to move the other around like he usually does into a better position. “Not good, I’m guessing,” Haruka continues as if Sousuke never left for a shower.

“No. You know what would blow about a career where I’d have to lift and move people around?”

“...Your shoulder,” Haruka says after a moment.

“Mmm.”

Haruka’s hand finds his hair. “At least you realized that _now_ , and not after you went back to school for it.”

Sousuke laughs and surprises himself with it. “Actually you bring up a good goddamned point I did _not_ think of.”

“Still,” Haruka continues, “I’m sure that’s disappointing.”

Sousuke shakes his head. “It’s all right. I got a lot of other things now. It’s not a big deal. If I found this out a few months ago I might’ve given up but… you know I talked with Gou about it and she reminded me that things aren’t so bad. So I had a pretty bad week. But look where I ended up anyway,” he finishes with a grin, flipping onto his back to look up at Haruka. He’s looking down at Sousuke with such a _soft_ and _calm_ and _fond_ expression and Sousuke should probably just tell him that he loves him, because he knows it’s true after today. So who’s he still fooling?

Haruka rolls his eyes. “You’re embarrassing.”

“Fuck, I _know,_ ” he groans. “I disgust myself. I can’t stop. I’m supposed to be sick of you by now.”

Haruka snorts and bends over him. “I love you.” 

Sousuke sighs in exaggerated annoyance and pushes him away. “You really are a telepath, aren’t you?”

Haruka shakes his head. “No. It’s just obvious.”

“ _Anyway_ as I was going to say before you so carelessly stole this tender moment from me,” he jests, “Haruka, I love you.”

A smile. “Good. Otherwise that would’ve been awkward.” He taps him on the shoulder to get him to move. “Bedtime.”

Sousuke sits up. “Is that what the kids are calling sex now? Haruka, please have bedtime with me.”

“I take it all back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haru annoying Sousuke on the phone is for popnographic. Like a shout out at a concert THIS SONG'S 4 U.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru ties up some loose ends.

Haruka hops from foot to foot to try and keep himself from succumbing to hypothermia and dying. Which might be an exaggeration of his current condition, sure, but he’s been left out in the cold for close to fifteen minutes now and he wasn’t too thrilled to even leave his apartment today to begin with as he’s developed a cold. But no, it just _had_ to be today, because Kisumi said so. Because it’s officially the end of the year and Haruka said _'yes'_ and Kisumi went full-steam ahead.

He sneezes and huffs hot air into his gloved hands before rubbing them together. The gloves may as well not even be there for all the purpose they’re serving at keeping him warm. Finally Kisumi pokes his head out the front. “Okay Haru, come here and take a look.”

He steps into the space for rent just as Sousuke finishes throwing a rogue countertop out of the way. The place is a wreck still, even though Kisumi and Sousuke have been trying to clear it a bit for a better view. They so graciously left Haruka out of it since he isn’t feeling well. There’s no heating in this place since it isn’t in use, and he has to shove his hands in his coat pockets to cope.

“What do you think?” Kisumi asks him, moving to stand next to him at the entrance. Sousuke kicks a few more things around.

“It’s a room,” he replies unenthusiastically. It is. It is literally a giant room full of trash with a door to a back and another door to a side room. 

“Use your imagination, grumpy.” He steps and turns to face Haruka. “A retail counter.” He walks back to where Sousuke is and waves his arm to divide the space. “Supplies area. Shelves and such. Canvas, brushes, oils, acrylics, watercolors, et cetera. Other side, studio room. A half-wall maybe. The back room for inventory. The side room for you to work alone and maybe where I can go to work on the boring shit. Oh, and I had an idea.” He crosses the room with a hum and spreads his arms a certain width to demonstrate. “Coffee. Little shop within a shop. We can bake. Feed the people who stay and work.”

Haruka groans and hunches his shoulders to warm his ears. “You keep coming up with stuff and changing your mind.”

“Seriously Kisumi, it’s a lot of work to fix that in the cost analysis every time you want to change something,” Sousuke adds. “You’re still going to have to get a small business loan so we need this to stabilize eventually."

Kisumi folds his arms in thought. “You’re right. I’m sorry to be fickle. But as soon as I saw where this was I thought of coffee. Think of the location here. We’re close to two universities, a few apartment complexes, and on the ground for walk-ins. As far as demographics go, it’s going to be college students. And they love caffeine. So you got your supplies to sell, an area to work in, and a coffee to drink. I think that’s straightforward.”

“That’s if we choose this location,” Haruka cuts in.

Kisumi looks around the space. “For the price we can’t beat it.”

“This is close to you and far for me.”

“Well silly, _move._ How long have you lived in your current place? Shake it up.”

“Hello? I exist,” Sousuke complains. “This is far as fuck, Kisumi.”

Kisumi grumbles and blows stray hair from his face. “You’re gonna make me spell this one out for you, huh? Uh, move in together?”

“It hasn’t even been four months!” Sousuke argues.

“People have done more in less time,” Kisumi sings.

Sousuke scowls. “I’m not discussing the private matter of cohabitation with you.”

Kisumi puts his hands up in surrender. “Hey, just a suggestion. You can both move to this side and get your own places then if you really want to make it difficult.”

Sousuke looks to Haruka helplessly. “Can I throw something at him?”

Haruka shrugs and sneezes.

“So damn rude, Sousuke,” he huffs. “Anyway I think it’s a good place, we won’t even be ready to go until the summer and by then it will have been nine months for you and you can stop pretending to be virgins,” Kisumi continues with an eyeroll. “This is the fifth place we’ve looked at and leagues above the other locations.”

“Give me a day,” Haruka interjects when he sees Sousuke narrow his eyes at Kisumi. “I’m too sick to care right now and I want to go home.”

“I’m going to tell the agent we’re interested. If you somehow come up with a reason for why we shouldn’t go with this, I’ll deal with it then.” Kisumi walks to the door to pick his coat up and put it on and Sousuke comes to stand next to Haruka. “Sousuke, call me about the coffee thing so we can make changes?” he asks hopefully.

Sousuke grumbles but doesn’t argue. “It- _begrudgingly_ \- sounds like a good idea. I will as soon as I have time to sit down and fix it. Again.”

Kisumi nods and smiles, twirling the keyring to the building on his index finger. “Gotta drop these off. Haru, need a ride? Or you got him, Sou?”

“Got him,” he answers, ushering Haruka back out into the frozen tundra of his nightmares. Kisumi locks up behind them.

“Until next year,” he winks. “Have a nice holiday, you two. Haru, send me a New Year’s text!”

“No.”

“I’ll send you one then. I think it’s good luck, and we’re going to need it.” Kisumi salutes them lazily and turns to walk down the street towards his car.

Sousuke turns to him. “Your place?”

“Only if you’re staying,” he mutters into his scarf.

Sousuke grins and Haruka looks away. “Think I can manage that. Should we stop for anything? Food or whatever to make you feel better?”

“ _Oka-_ ” He sneezes. “Okayu and fish.”

Sousuke snorts. “All right. Tea and bath won’t hurt either. I’ll stop by my place for my computer so I can work when you inevitably fall asleep on me.”

As much as he wants to argue, some things are just true. 

Sousuke makes him food and tea after a halfhearted attempt on Haruka’s behalf to fight him for the responsibility. He resigns himself to his kotatsu and slumps over the top of it, blanket over his legs and an additional one over his shoulders. Haruka isn’t a fan of strong language such as _hate,_ but he can definitely say without pause that he hates the winter. 

He’s only feeling worse as the afternoon drags on and by the time Sousuke sets food down in front of him, he’s dizzy and his eyes are heavy. He really should’ve insisted that Kisumi reschedule the showing. He sucks in a sharp breath when Sousuke’s hand is suddenly on his forehead, startling him.

“Should’ve stayed in,” he sighs.

“Mmm.” Haruka drags himself up to sit straight and takes the bowl placed before him. Sousuke pushes a cup of tea at him as well. “It’s okay. I’m glad we saw the place.”

“You’re sure about all this, right?” Sousuke asks cautiously. “This is going to be a lot of work.”

Haruka starts to eat and sighs contentedly as the rice warms him from the inside, bone chill abating slightly. “I’m not sure. But I haven’t been sure about a few things until the last minute and it’s worked out anyway. It’s worth a shot.”

Sousuke reddens once he realizes that was directed at him, but doesn’t comment on it. “Well until you hire help, if you ever _can,_ you’ll be working every day. Sort of bums me out.”

“It’s good for me to stay busy doing something I can be in control of,” Haruka elaborates for him. “And I doubt it will be that way forever.”

“All right,” Sousuke relents. “I trust you.”

It ultimately may be jarring to go from an open schedule to a rigid minimum six days a week, Haruka knows. But he also knows days on end of downtime as he has it now isn’t in his best interest, he will get to do something he at least mostly enjoys, and it’ll be with Kisumi, who’s smart and organized and won’t let things fall through the cracks like Haruka might if he were left to it alone. If ever Haruka were to have a job with boundaries, he couldn’t ask for it to be tailored to him any better than this. Sousuke is ultimately a worrier, though, and it isn’t necessary to imply there will be an adjustment period. He only needs to know how it will be a good thing, since he’s already bogged down with why it could be bad through no effort on Haruka’s part to explain the downsides.

“I’m gonna go get your bath started,” Sousuke says with a stand, seeing Haruka’s almost done eating. 

Haruka hums and sips at his tea, finally starting to feel warm all the way through. He’s sleepy now though. Not that there’s any sort of competition, but he’s probably the most useless sick person in the world. Someone could be bleeding out on his floor and he probably wouldn’t be spurred to action by it if he’s already been stricken with the sniffles. 

“Come on, need a hand?” Sousuke says, crouching down next to him.

Haruka shakes his head no and wobbles to a stand, shucking off the blanket and shuffling towards his bathroom. He stands at the tub and sighs, forgetting the whole stripping thing. Just when he got warm, too. 

“Arms up.”

“I can do it,” Haruka mutters, reaching for the collar of his shirt and tugging at it. In the wrong direction, he realizes too late. 

“The bath will be cold by the time you figure this out,” Sousuke argues, pushing his hand out of the way and yanking his shirt over his head in one pull. The rest of his clothes pool at his ankles a moment later and he shivers. 

“It’s cold.”

“Get in the water then, dork.’

“You first.”

Sousuke sighs. “Your tub is way too small. Doesn’t work, remember?” He pushes Haruka towards the water and he finally gets his wits about him to at least swing a leg over and get in. He turns and sinks down until his chin rests on the surface and his head is supported by the back of the tub and groans.

Sousuke clears his throat. “I’ll just leave you two alone, then.”

“Mmmm, don’t let me drown,” Haruka mumbles, letting his eyes slip shut.

“You know now that you said that I can’t fucking leave, right? And I was going to try and work while you soaked?”

“I do know that. I’m taking advantage of your worrying disposition to get what I want.”

Sousuke grumbles and sits on the floor next to the tub, laying his head on his arms over the edge. 

“About what Kisumi said,” Haruka drawls to stay awake. He doesn’t want to fall asleep here.

“We don’t need to talk about it now. You don’t even feel good.”

He opens his eyes to look over at Sousuke “We should, if we’re committing to that location. We don’t have to move in together if you don’t want to, but I at least need an idea for what sort of place to look for if I’m going to be moving across the city in a few months.”

Sousuke looks down and sullen. He lets his fingertips dip just below the surface of the water. “...It’s not that I don’t want to, but I’ve never lived with anyone before not counting Rin in the dorm. We still stay apart a few nights a week and suddenly every day might be a lot. I don’t know, I have no point of reference.”

“You’re making it complicated,” Haruka sighs. “If you want to know how it feels we’ll start staying together _now_ and see if it works.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“Okay now this I am too sick for. Stop. It’ll be fine.” He flicks a bit of water at Sousuke who recoils from it. “I clean and cook and don’t listen to music very loudly. I’m not that bad. We can get a two-bedroom so you have space for yourself apart if you really want it.”

“None of that is what I meant,” Sousuke groans. “But okay. I’d be lying to say I didn’t want to see you every day anyway as it is.”

“Sappy.”

“...You threatened to _drown_ if I didn’t sit here with you.”

“That’s not sappy, that’s dramatic, and now I get to see you every day as a result of you staying here to talk. Which makes me glad.” Sousuke buries his red face in the crook of his arm. “That last part is sappy.”

Sousuke stands. “I’m leaving now.”

“I’m going to drown,” Haruka deadpans.

“Then I’ll be back to retrieve your corpse in fifteen minutes and put it to bed.”

-

The following day he can barely move, and Sousuke has to go home to get ready to work. He leaves Haruka with water and some snacks so he hopefully doesn’t need to get out of bed, but when the cellphone he left out on the kitchen counter rings, he doesn’t have much of a choice but to go get it. He doesn’t make it in time to answer it as the fight to get upright was a little more challenging than he thought it was going to be. When he checks it though, there’s a voicemail, and it’s from Makoto. He crawls back into bed with a pause to sneeze and shudder, and listens. 

_I have to admit I’m sort of glad you didn’t answer! I guess I’m just nervous. Anyway I’ll be in Iwatobi for the new year. Just me. I wanted to see my family. If you were also going to be in town, I was thinking maybe we could see each other. Up to you, but um, I miss you Haru, and I’m really excited to hear about everything you’ve been up to. It sounds amazing the way Rin gushes... Hope it’s not too out of line to call._

Haruka traditionally has visited Iwatobi over the new year to see friends who still live there and visit the Tachibanas and Rin’s mother as sort of a catch-all for keeping in touch with everyone. Sort of a cop-out and impersonal, he knows, but it works for him. He wasn’t going to go this year for the first time since he left, thinking maybe it was time to break away from it, but now…

It’s three days until the New Year and he’s sick as he’s going to get this season, and probably won’t be one-hundred percent better by the time he would need to leave. It’ll be taxing. But he should probably go. He knows how much back-and-forth it probably took for Makoto to call him at all. Before he’s totally taken in by this business thing, he could at least stand to let Makoto know about everything straight from him instead of through a Sousuke-to-Rin proxy. Besides, who _knows_ what Rin’s been telling him?

He tosses his phone onto the nightstand as his cold takes over his consciousness again. He’ll answer later with a clearer head. For now, sleep.

He’s awoken with the smell of miso and tap to his forehead. “Hey plaguebearer. Sit up and eat something.”

He can only groan. “You left an hour ago and I ate before you left.”

“So you’ve been sleeping all day.” Sousuke sighs and sets a dish down with a clank on his nightstand. Haruka is hooked under his arms and pulled up to sit. “It’s nearly eight. Do you need a doctor?”

“No. I’m going to Iwatobi,” he mumbles.

“Sure, Haruka, but eat first.”

“I _am_ going,” he protests. 

“Eat, then explain.” Sousuke turns his hands up in his lap and sets the bowl down. “I’m not feeding you.”

“ _Good._ Don’t.” Haruka forces his eyes open and brings the soup to his lips, sipping for a few moments. “Makoto is going to be there.”

“For the holiday?”

“Hmm.”

“You’re really sick, Haruka. Can’t he come to you?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to ask him because then he _will_ and it’s far. His family never gets to see him it wouldn’t be fair.”

Sousuke huffs. “I know I’m not going to change your mind. But know that I want to.”

“Come with me,” Haruka nearly whines. Distantly he thinks he’s too fevered to have this conversation, and that he’s been rambling, but is in no place to stop it. 

“Few more sips of soup before you slip into childish delirium, please,” Sousuke laughs.

Haruka obliges him and shoves the bowl forward when he’s decided he’s done. Sousuke takes it and sets it down, and gives him water that he’s all too happy to drink the entire glass of before reaching over himself to set that down too. On his way back to lie down he drags Sousuke with him with a loop around his neck.

“You’re gonna get me sick,” he grouses, twisting to lie down anyway.

“You already caught it if you get sick at all,” Haruka reasons. “You kissed me yesterday morning before I realized I was.”

“Hmm well in that case...” Sousuke turns and kisses along his jaw before pressing gently over his mouth. 

“Gross,” Haruka mumbles. 

“Too bad.” Sousuke scoots down to lie in the crook of Haruka’s neck. “I can go, but only for the weekend. Work.”

“That’s more than enough for Iwatobi. I was thinking only one night and a half-day.”

“Cozy new year with you in a little seaside town… sounds romantic. I’m onto you.”

Haruka thinks he just wants to put him on the spot, and he isn’t having it. “Is it? We can sleep in the bed I had my first awkward blowjob in.”

“Do I want to know who?” Sousuke asks tentatively.

Haruka shrugs. “You have thirty-three percent chance to get it right, considering who we already know.”

“Nope,” Sousuke declares loudly, “I do not want to know.”

He manages a laugh through his stuffiness. “These little vacations we take just get better and better.”

-

It hasn’t changed, of course. Why would Iwatobi ever change?

“Why the fuck do you still have this house?” Sousuke laughs as Haruka unlocks the door to it with cold, fumbling hands. It’s already nine at night on New Year’s Eve but they couldn’t get there any sooner.

Haruka shrugs. “Not mine, I just keep a key. I don’t really care. My parents probably forgot about it and keep making payments anyway. Wouldn’t be surprised, and I’m not about to remind them.”

They enter and set their bags down as Haruka flips the lights. He heads to the hall closet to get the bed fitted with sheets before he forgets. Everything in his room is dusty and stale; he hasn’t been here in a year. He’s fixing the sheets when he realizes the living room was not as unkempt as this. Not as dusty. A fresher smell. He growls in sudden aggravation, throwing the bundle down and walking back out to confirm his suspicions. This will have been the second time they stopped by home without thinking to contact him.

“Haruka?” Sousuke asks as he stomps by.

“They were _here,_ ” he hisses, cutting across the room quickly. There’s a framed photograph that wasn’t there the last time Haruka stayed of them both on the shelf where they bring things back from their travels like the weird pack rats they are. Smiling and laughing. _So in love._ His heart rate spikes in anger.

Sousuke steps and looks over his shoulder at it, the relatively recent date carved into the frame a dead giveaway. “Oh. _Wow._ ”

“Dammit.” He slams the frame over so it lays face down. _“Assholes,”_ he spits, an unfamiliar rage pushing adrenaline down his spine. Every time he thinks he’s over it, they give him one more reason not to be, and one more reason to be bitter and angry and yell things into his pillow at night he doesn’t usually even _think,_ much less say. 

Sousuke sighs and embraces him from behind. “Hey, forget about them.”

“Should be easy, it’s genetic.” He breaks away from Sousuke too roughly to finish getting the bed set up, but he’s too weighed down by anger to be any good with it. He gets the fitted elastic sheet orientation wrong _four times_ somehow before yelling out sharply and giving up. Sousuke steps in and takes over, taking the sheet gently from him and quietly turning it over once more and tugging the corners down. He gets the pillows in cases and throws the sheet over without tucking it in- there’s no point- followed by a comforter. All the while Haruka fumes and leans against a bare wall. 

“Come here,” Sousuke beckons gently from a seat on the edge once he’s done. “We’re not here for them, isn’t that what you told me?”

Haruka looks at the ground so he doesn’t lash out at Sousuke, since it isn’t his fault. But he’s still angry and that line doesn’t help. 

“Haruuu- _ka,_ ” he says lightly, patting the spot next to him. “Stop making me think about your awkward first blowjob as I sit here by myse- _eeelf._ ”

Haruka rolls his eyes at his sing-song tone, but complies anyway, pushing off the wall and falling into a straddle over him. He should at least make an attempt to get over it. Sousuke hums appreciatively of his chosen position and pecks him quickly on the lips. “See this is better for breaking up both of our unwanted thought chains.”

“Can we copy the sex too from your family funeral disaster? That made me feel better.”

“Depends. How much time we got?”

“I don’t know,” Haruka answers against his lips.

“Good enough,” he murmurs back, pushing his hands past Haruka’s hips and pulling him closer with a grab into the back pockets of his jeans. 

Haruka kisses him with his thumb tilting his chin up, sliding his tongue in quickly then out over his bottom lip with a roll of his hips. Sousuke grunts slightly and readjusts to push under his waistband. Heat spreads quickly at Haruka’s back, urging him forward and throwing his weight into Sousuke to force him back onto the bed.

“Move up,” he commands, diving for his neck while Sousuke tries to get both of them onto the bed in a shuffle on his elbows. The bed isn’t very wide and Sousuke knocks his head on the wall once he runs out of room, but it’ll do. Sousuke isn’t giving up his quest of forcing his hands down the back of Haruka’s pants despite there not being a lot of give from the fabric, so he sits up and quickly undoes the button and fly to grant Sousuke more room before falling back forward to kiss him again. Sousuke growls in triumph, quickly and roughly grabbing and pulling at Haruka’s inner thighs. Haruka gasps above him and drags a long grind down against him, making Sousuke groan loudly before Haruka can resume kissing him. His mouth is wet and he’s hot and hard and Haruka wants-

A loud knock at the front door.

Haruka throws his head over his shoulder reactively but Sousuke pulls him back with another pinch to his thighs.

“Don’t care.”

Haruka rasps hard above him in response before agreeing, continuing on to get at the back of his throat or die trying, rolling his hips in a slow circle and making sure he grinds even slower at the bottom of it, driving Sousuke to long moans.

“Haruka,” he breathes, “clothes, lose ‘em, _fuck_ -”

More _insistent_ knocking, and voices calling for him curiously.

Haruka groans and stops, hitting his forehead against Sousuke’s shoulder in frustration. “I think we’re out of time.”

“Fuck it,” Sousuke tries. “You’re not here yet.”

“They know I am. I texted Makoto off the train. They probably saw me walk by.”

Sousuke pouts _spectacularly_ and frees his hands.

“Sorry, it’s not like I was planning on doing this as soon as we got here,” Haruka says. More knocking. He rolls off to hurry to the door. 

He throws it open to Ren, Ran, and Makoto, who clearly brought the twins with him to pick him up to soften the blow of seeing each other again, but he can’t say he doesn’t miss them. 

“Ah Haru,” Makoto smiles. 

“...Did we bug you while you were getting dressed?” Ran asks, looking away from him with a barely contained smile.

Haruka blinks in confusion before remembering he definitely did not fix his pants. He clears his throat and re-fastens the front, realizing he’s also probably flushed and disheveled elsewhere. “...Yes.”

Makoto shakes his head behind the twins and Haruka has half a mind to remind him he’s found Makoto in _worse_ situations, thank you very much, but can’t due to the family armor between them. “Um, come in, I’m not ready.” He turns and leaves the door for them.

“Hello, Sousuke!” Makoto calls down the hall obviously. “Pardon the _intrusion._ ”

Ren and and Ran giggle as they take a seat at his kotatsu and Haruka is reminded they are teenagers now that are not falling for Makoto’s cover-ups anymore. It was nice while it lasted. 

Makoto immediately walks over to the shelf with the downturned frame and picks it up, honing in on it being out of place right away, of course. Haruka sees him frown and place it back down before turning to him. “I didn’t know,” he says vaguely. “My parents didn’t say anything. Or I would’ve told you.”

Haruka shrugs. “It’s okay. I’m over it. Again.”

He smiles sadly and moves to entertain the twins. “Hurry up, Haru, Ren is starving, apparently.”

“Am not! Don’t lie to Haru, Makoto,” he protests. “ _You_ are the starving one.”

Makoto laughs. “Only a little.”

Haruka leaves them to their sibling squabbling and goes to check on Sousuke. He’s still lying on the bed, entirely unamused, and glares at Haruka like it’s his fault. 

“Don’t be a baby,” he says with a nudge to his knee.

“Tachibana is a cockblock.”

Haruka snorts. “That’s one I haven’t heard. Get up.”

Sousuke sits up and shakes out of his shirt before walking over to the bag he brought for a fresh one. “I feel like I’m covered in other people’s skin. I hate the train.”

“For once you’re not just sounding fussy,” Haruka agrees, joining him. He pulls on a plain black shirt with a logo he’s never really looked too hard at followed by a blue hoodie. He’s not dressing up for this, not with how freezing it’s going to be.

“How’s the cold?” he asks, adjusting the collar on a button down. 

“I’ll be fine. I’m a little tired still. But cleared up.”

Sousuke hums and reaches over to pull him up for a kiss. Haruka presses into it, still wound up from the event prior, and has to break it off before Sousuke gets greedy. “Jesus, Nanase, keep it together. We have company.”

He rolls his eyes but smiles up at him slightly.

“Go away,” Sousuke groans. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Haru!” Makoto calls. “It’s getting late!”

Sousuke chuckles. “Told you. Like nothing changed, right?” he asks with an amused quirk of his eyebrow. 

Haruka frowns and looks out the door wearily. “Maybe.”

-

The twins drag the three of them to visit at least one shrine, knowing their friends will be there. Makoto talks about his family and what the twins are up to now that they’re in high school. Ren plays soccer and Ran sings. The elder Tachibanas are happy and much the same, and glad to have Haruka and Sousuke for the New Year. It’s status quo for both of their families, but for entirely different reasons. Haruka doesn’t suppose his situation will ever change, and at this point he’d probably laugh in his parents’ faces if they ever tried to make amends. This is for the better. 

Ren and Ran run off to pray and mingle with their friends when they see them at the shrine nearest Makoto and Haruka’s houses. Sousuke opts out of the shrine altogether and stays behind and out of the way, not that Haruka can blame him for eschewing traditions in the face of what he’s dealt with. He accompanies Makoto as his friend, as Makoto takes solace in ritual and has always liked visiting the shrines. 

Haruka prays for good luck. Kisumi is right; they’re going to need it.

They’re walking back to find Sousuke when Makoto breaks their silence. “I’m engaged. I should’ve told you sooner.”

Haruka smiles a little. “I wondered.”

“Hmm. I’m surprised Sousuke didn’t tell you. He knew.”

“Not for him to say.”

The twins catch up with that and the conversation is put on hold for now. They return as a group to Makoto’s house, and his parents hug Haruka tightly and greet Sousuke politely. Sousuke seems at ease quickly, but that’s just the atmosphere the Tachibanas are masters at creating. No one stands a chance against all five of them at once. They bring out games and food and even alcohol for the eligible and Haruka needs to take his sweatshirt off for how warm they keep the house for him. Haruka is comfortable to lean against Sousuke and be in his space all night, and eventually Sousuke loosens up to it as well once they finish off a few beers. He hopes Makoto recognizes how lucky he is to have the family he does. It’s probably why he spent a lot of money to fly back here to be with them without Rin actually, Haruka figures.

Midnight approaches all too quickly after a few hours of laughing and silly games, the twins in prime form to entertain the rest of them with their bickering and oftentimes acrobatic antics that they never really grew out of from their childhoods. Sousuke bonds quickly with them, as he’s the only one in the room who doesn’t know any better than to not accept a challenge from the Tachibana twins. Haruka finds Sousuke can hold an impressively decent handstand for about two seconds, and he needs Makoto’s arm to catch his laugh when Sousuke goes toppling over with a shout and Ran declares victory from her own rock solid handstand. 

Sousuke, effectively shamed, retakes his spot next to Haruka and drags him back from his lean on Makoto where he’s still laughing. Makoto takes a few deep breaths to calm down and checks his phone and smiles to them all before excusing himself to speak to Rin as the year turns over for him. Sousuke pulls Haruka into his side where he can muffle out the rest of his hitching laugh in peace. The other four Tachibanas excuse themselves to the back of the house where Makoto went for a small sparkler lighting they do as a family that Haruka’s usually included in, but he waves them off to stay with Sousuke in the warm living room instead. Haruka sits up, not without a wave of dizziness from his happy buzz, and takes out his phone from his pocket, thinking he probably should text Kisumi anyway with a minute to spare. Sousuke drops his head on his shoulder and watches idly.

“It’s good luck,” Haruka explains. “Because he said so.”

“Yes the old traditional Kisumi rule,” Sousuke jokes. “Because he said so.”

_happy new year kisumi._

_haru!!! x o xoo i <3 u and sou a lot happy ne wyear!!!!_

It’s a drunk text if he ever saw one. That finished, he sets his phone down and shifts so Sousuke rightens, and faces him. “In some places you kiss someone at midnight,” he starts. 

He thinks Sousuke will give him some jestful, teasing line in return, but he doesn’t. Instead he leans forward to kiss him earnestly, warmly, devoid of lust and full of affection. A slide and a lock of his lips; a loving nip at the top of it. Haruka lacks the inhibition to stop himself from pulling Sousuke in with his arms around his neck for the few seconds longer they hold it, and they part just as simply. 

“Sometimes I can’t believe this happened,” Sousuke admits quietly, still close enough to bump noses, Haruka’s arms still looped. “You came out of nowhere.”

Haruka huffs. “Don’t.”

“You gotta let me for like, a second. While I’m drunk and alone with you on a holiday. Just this once. _I love you;_ how did that _happen?_ What was it, August? I was washed up and miserable and... I mean… I just really can’t believe it sometimes. And here I am anyway. New life. You are so strong. You’ve done a lot for me so selflessly and helped build me up-”

Haruka looks away and rubs at an ear with his shoulder. “Sousuke.”

“I know. Just wanted it one time. I’ll stop. Sorry.”

“I’ve never been this happy,” Haruka says quickly before he loses his nerve. “Ever. In my life.”

“...Haruka,” Sousuke breathes.

“‘I love you’ is easy for me... this part is hard. Thank you. For being there and being someone I feel confident to depend on when I need it. I’m sorry I don’t express myself well. And I know I’ll have days sometimes where you won’t be sure if I’m okay.” He pulls his arms tighter around the other’s neck. “But this really is the happiest,” he finishes on a whisper. Sousuke reaches up and runs his thumb along his cheek bone, something Haruka’s come to recognize as just a thing he likes to do, and barely brushes their lips together.

“Um,” Makoto interrupts, leaning his head around the wall and looking away just as quickly. “Would you like to help us light the rest of the sparklers? We bought too many.”

Sousuke grins. “Cockblock,” he mumbles between them. Haruka laughs. 

“Sure Makoto,” he answers. 

They join the Tachibanas in the backyard and spend another twenty minutes with them lighting sparklers and talking until even Sousuke starts to look a bit cold and ready to sleep. The twins wind down and bid goodnight and offer their nice-to-meet-yous and are taken inside by their parents as Haruka and Sousuke thank them for their hospitality. 

“I’m gonna go get ready for bed,” Sousuke declares over a yawn. He stands from their sit on the porch and gives Haruka’s shoulder a squeeze, and takes the keys Haruka holds up. “Later, Makoto. Thanks.”

Makoto smiles. “It was great to see you, Sousuke.” They wait a few minutes for Sousuke to leave before Makoto speaks again. “Should we go inside?”

Haruka nods and goes back in first, and settles back at Makoto’s kotatsu. Makoto rummages around in the kitchen and emerges after a few minutes with hot tea for them both. Haruka accepts with gratitude and they share a silence for a spell while they drink and warm up.

“How are you doing?” Makoto asks customarily.

Haruka nods and tries not to sound too disappointed by the total lack of change in their communication so far. “I’m good.”

Makoto sets his tea down hard and sighs loudly enough to give Haruka pause. “I’m just going to say it. I am _sorry,_ Haruka,” he weighs in heavily. Haruka snaps his eyes up at the verbal gravity of his full name. “I really am. I’ve said a lot of things to you that weren’t always helpful, and I spoke from ignorance on what you were going through. I recognize that now where I didn’t before. Please forgive me.” Makoto bows over his folded legs and holds it.

Haruka stares in near shock. “M-Makoto, I don’t-” He stops. He shouldn’t dismiss this just to get out of an awkward situation like he has in the past. This is genuine and not easy to do. “I forgive you. Of course I do.”

Makoto sits up and beams at him in relief. “I still… have a lot of work to do,” he admits. “But I’m really grateful that you got me to face this, Haru. Just to have someone to talk to that isn’t too close to me. It’s helped… everywhere. And it’s only been a few months. Looking back I can see where I’ve made mistakes with you, over and over, where I refused to look in at my faults and how I was using you to feel better about myself. Thinking I could push you and ignore things like I did and still conflating it with being supportive. And you were patient and accepting even though I messed up a lot.” He takes a deep breath. “That’s all,” he laughs nervously. “It’s taken me a long time to put that into words and I practiced it on Rin quite a bit... he thinks it’s long-winded.”

Haruka smiles. “It is, for us. But it means everything to me.”

Makoto relaxes significantly, and Haruka didn’t even realize how drawn up he’s been all night until he does it. “I hope-”

“Yeah,” Haruka cuts in thickly. “Yeah. I miss you, Makoto. I think we can. I want to work at it slowly. Together now.”

“Right,” he laughs. “Ah, Haru I’m so relieved.” 

Haruka nods in agreement and feels a weight fall off of him. Again, Sousuke was right. Like nothing changed, even though something between them finally has. Makoto starts to squirm and Haruka smiles. “Just ask, Makoto.”

“Is it obvious? I’m sorry! I want to know so badly! I know it’s terrible and nosy but… you! Your entire life is so different! Rin just… squawks when he's excited...” He makes a small noise in embarrassment. “Okay, that wasn’t very nice of me. He just doesn’t explain it well is what I mean.”

Haruka laughs over his stammering and excitement, and starts from the top. He finds the words flow easily, from the starlight in puddles to lanterns to now. Makoto is engrossed, and stops him to drill him on his apparent knack for frame-building as he had no idea. Haruka shows him the scar on his index finger as proof.

Makoto walks him out nearly an hour later, and Haruka stands at his door to pull his shoes on while Makoto mentions forgetting something and disappears. He returns, and looks nervously to the ground before taking a deep breath.

“Haru, I want you to have this,” he says seriously and resolutely. Haruka holds his hand out and Makoto hands him a simple composition notebook, bound closed with an elastic band. Nothing is written on the front or back at a glance. It’s just plain. “I’ve been keeping journals since I got back to Australia. I’ve never done that before. I want you to have the first one.”

“Makoto, I don’t want to read this,” Haruka says in alarm. “This is-”

“I know,” Makoto laughs. “You won’t read it. But I still want you to have it. I recognize I’m not open about my feelings all of the time and I hope you’ll take this so I’m reminded that you have something really, _really_ personal of mine. Maybe it will help me be better with you in the future. I didn’t write a lot of nice things in there. About myself. If you ever do decide to read it… well I hope you can recognize what sort of place I was in when I did it. And…I guess I suppose, as long as you have this, I can always be open with you, because you have my secrets.”

“I won’t read it,” Haruka promises, pressure building behind his eyes. “Ever. I won’t. Makoto, I don’t even know what to say about it.”

“It’s just one last burden I need your strength to help me shoulder,” Makoto says a bit sadly. “Don’t be thankful for it. It’s really selfish of me... I know it is.”

Haruka shakes his head and blinks back heavy tears without much success. “This is okay. I want it, in that case. However many journals you want to give me.”

“Haru,” Makoto says with a crack. “I’m so relieved- I was really afraid-”

Haruka catches on something between a muffled wail and a sob and hugs Makoto tightly around his chest. Makoto squeezes him back enthusiastically and cries quietly over his shoulder as well. 

“I love you, Makoto, you know that,” Haruka reassures him. “It’s fine. We’re fine.”

“Yeah,” he answers, pulling back and already recovered to his usual easy smile. “We are. I love you too. I hope that, at least, was never up for debate.”

Haruka shakes his head and pulls his sleeve across his eyes with one arm to dry them, and holds the journal close with the other. “Never was.”

He hums. “Then I’ll see you soon. And talk to you sooner.”

Haruka nods and turns to leave, and thinks of something a few steps out onto the path. “Makoto.”

“Hm?”

“I might need to get rid of your couch. Sousuke already has one.”

The great thing about the layout of their houses is that Haruka can always hear Makoto’s laugh bouncing up the steps behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk you guys I think fulfilled the "gross lovebirds" end of my goal with this chapter. I'm still a little disgusted with myself tbh.
> 
> So I got one more chapter of the story and then an epilogue. I'M OKAY... I'LL BE OKAY.
> 
> iskabee @ tumblr


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OkAY… SO this is IT!!!! I’m fine, I’m totally good…….. 
> 
> Thanks for reading my boring SouHaru fic. ;_; The feedback has made me tear up a few times and I even had art drawn for me too which you can see [here](http://clowderr.tumblr.com/post/130805690208/even-though-haru-wasnt-so-impressed-with) if you haven’t yet and it’s gorgeous and really I am just blown away by the response. I love SouHaru a lot, like it is basically a permanent installation of my character, and this was a labor of love to do and I enjoyed every second of it. So yeah. Excuse my overabundance of feelings.
> 
> I’ll post a simple epilogue soon.

“ _Fucking_ -shitfuck- _cock!_ ” Sousuke shouts an octave above normal, losing his balance from his crouch and falling onto his ass. He immediately brings his hand to his hairline on the left side of his forehead and inches slowly into his hair until he winces, finding the wound he just gave himself when he stood too fast before making sure he was clear of the countertop he’s been bent under. 

“Poetry,” Kisumi sighs. “You’re a clutz, Sousuke.”

“ _Fuck_ off- _ow!_ ” he yelps, pressure coming down in the same spot from above. 

Gou laughs. “At least you’re not bleeding again. Just a bump.”

Sousuke reaches up blindly and bats her hand away. “I _got_ it.”

“All you’re doing is painting a wall, Sou, there’s no reason for you to continuously injure yourself like this,” Kisumi says with an edge of exasperation, leaning on the counter to look at him in pity.

“It’s not the task, it’s his complete lack of spacial awareness,” Gou continues. Kusumi snickers.

“Fuck you both!” Sousuke pushes to a stand and gathers the paint roller, the pan and the nearby bucket of paint.

“Where are you going?” Gou asks, muffling a giggle into her palm.

“ _Away from you,_ ” Sousuke grumbles, settling back down further down the wall. He sees Haruka just shake his head without looking at any of them from his side of the room, replacing the earbud he took out at the sound of Sousuke’s yelling. 

It was not supposed to take all damn day to paint this place, yet here they are at seven in the evening and his patience has disintegrated to a fine dust. But the flooring is being put in the next day and the furniture and fixtures will be there in three days, so they have to finish this by the end of the night. Sousuke tried to argue that they should’ve just hired someone, since they needed to hire people for the other things _anyway_ and the savings to paint the place themselves were _negligible_ in the face of how much _that_ was going to cost but no one fucking listened. They thought this would be _fun_.

Gou and Kisumi return to their areas as well. At least they’re done painting high up, and the back and side rooms are finished completely.There’s an end in sight, not that Sousuke thinks he’s going to make it to that point without stomping out in a rage. So he isn’t a handyman. He’s maybe one notch above competent with a standard toolbox. They don’t have to mock him for it. He _warned_ them, too. Dicks.

He should probably take his phone back from Haruka and listen to music as he was before the other just walked up and took it from him without saying anything. There’s a positive correlation between his rising blood pressure and the amount of time he’s been without his phone, and he didn’t start losing blood until after he lost the music either. To be fair, the corner of that fucking counter is unsanded, and the dumb thing just juts out of the wall for no damn reason and Haruka doesn’t want to get rid of it. Even though they have all new shit on the way. 

He’s lost in his thoughts long enough to get a large portion of his wall done without further injury, and when he runs into the place where Haruka started, he breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Come finish underneath the counter,” Kisumi calls. “That’s your area.”

Sousuke glares at him. “Give me your area, and _you_ take the counter.”

“Giving up? Bested by a stationary shelf,” Kisumi laughs. 

Sousuke kicks his pan over to Kisumi with the paint roller in one hand and chooses the higher road by not responding to his instigation. He dabs his thumb over the roller and reaches out as he passes him to smear paint across Kisumi’s nose, though, effectively lowering himself onto the middle road at best.

“Oh you _shit,_ ” Kisumi grumbles, stopping mid-stride to rub it away.

“Stop antagonizing Kisumi,” Gou throws over her shoulder.

Kisumi laughs and gets set up to paint under the counter while Sousuke regrets putting the two of them in the same room together for any reason. As two people with the uncanny ability to get along with anyone, of course they get along with each other, and way too well at that.

He reaches down to adjust the paint pan to where he wants it, and it’s only natural he grabs it in just the right way to slice his middle finger down the middle on the sharp plastic edge. “For fuck’s sake!” 

“What now?” Kisumi groans.

“I’m done,” Sousuke declares, throwing the roller down. “I can’t. Call me for something else not as awful as this.” He walks quickly to the door and shoulders out onto the sidewalk into the early evening, and goes left to walk home. Sort of. It’s still mostly unpacked and not much of a home, as of course getting the store up to open and moving into a new place happened to line up exactly, and they’ve had no time to unpack anything other than the essentials in a week since they got all the boxes in. No one wanted to put off an opening any longer, and the new complex wasn’t ready for them until just recently. They thought it’d be manageable, but it isn’t. Not in the least. Sousuke is going crazy and can’t wait for things to die down. Haruka, by comparison, has been completely calm and unfazed. 

If anything, he can start unpacking things while they finish painting. He isn’t likely to hurt himself doing that. Probably. But Haruka has his phone, so if he needs emergency services he’s shit out of luck. At his injury rate for the day, he’s somehow going to sever an artery on a fucking vase and bleed out before anyone can find him.

The absolute most wonderful thing about the place they picked out is that he walks through the door a mere ten minutes later. Alone and calmed down, calling on his old threshold rule of leaving it outside, he smiles over the mix of boxes containing all of their things. Neatly organizing things into spaces is something he can do. After he showers, as he’s been working all day. 

He starts in the kitchen after getting cleaned up and out of those dirty clothes, as that’s been giving them the largest headache this week. It’s all mostly his dishes and other items in general; Haruka chose to part with his hodge podge of hand-me-downs and mis-matched pieces of tupperware Makoto left over the years. He stocks the pantry, stacks the plates and bowls, lays out the silverware drawer, and arranges the pans on hooks above the range ordered by size before dumping the lesser-used ones in a cupboard below. He hums a tuneless song as he does it all and starts to space out, losing track of time.

Sousuke moves to the bathroom next, the second most annoying room to still be unpacked, and gets what is admittedly nearly all his things put away. Haruka’s few items line the tub, still too small for them both but a concession for the distance to the store, and the drawer Sousuke designates him has even fewer things of his. He stares for a moment, brought back to the present, at a plastic dolphin toy at the bottom of a box before shaking his head in dismissal of it and tossing it into the drawer as well. Some things he will just never know.

Their bedroom already has clothes put away; Sousuke stayed up late to do that already earlier in the week. They got a desk since they had the room and needed a place for their computers anyway. Sousuke opens a box Haruka left on it and starts to put away his various reference books and whatever else is in there. He surprisingly keeps a few art books, out of date encyclopedias, old travel magazines, spiral bound notebooks; all for reference at a glance. Last is an unmarked composition book, bound in elastic, and Sousuke doesn’t know where it really fits since he doesn’t know what it is. He leaves it out on the desk for Haruka to store away wherever.

He grabs the box and launches it out the door into the hall to kick it with the others when he’s done and hears a sharp grunt of surprise. 

“Haruka?”

Haruka peeks his head in slowly. “Done throwing things?”

“Sorry.” He comes back to himself and also thinks he should apologize for ditching him in his tantrum. “...And sorry.”

“It’s fine. How long have you been doing this?”

Sousuke glances to the alarm clock. It’s after nine. “Uh, too long. Did you guys finish?”

Haruka nods. “Faster, even, since you weren’t interrupting us every two minutes.”

“Punk,” Sousuke mutters.

“I’m covered in paint. I’m taking a shower.” He is, and it’s obnoxious. A smudge across his forehead, a splatter on his cheek, and much more dotted along his arms. So it’s cute, but Sousuke’s going with obnoxious.

“Sure. I’m almost done, I think.”

Haruka looks around the bedroom and settles his eyes on the desk, then looks between the notebook and Sousuke a few times. “...Just wedge that thing between some bigger books,” he says with a wave, walking out. 

Sousuke picks the book up again and flips it a few times for any other indication of its contents and shrugs, stuffing it near the end of the overhead shelf after one of the encyclopedias. Again, some things he will just never know.

Things that need to be hung on the walls can wait until outside of noise complaint hours, which is about all they have left to do now. Sousuke goes to the living room to move around his décor until it looks right to him; something Haruka has no interest in anyway. The lanterns went up first thing already. There’s corner shelf full of half-hearted gifts from others who never know what to get him, a bookshelf for music and movies and some of his own reference materials, a simple DVD player on a suspended shelf under the wall-mounted television. It looks nice; he’s happy with it. It fits into this space better than his old space. Haruka parted with his kotatsu with a tiny frown, though Sousuke was willing to bend on that if he really wanted it and tried to convince him to keep it, even. Haruka muttered something about sleep and got rid of it.

Haruka emerges from the bathroom reasonably quickly for him, and joins Sousuke where he’s sunk into the couch and flipped the television on waiting for him. Haruka crawls over him and settles there, turning to lift Sousuke’s arm up to look at his elbow where he knocked it earlier. 

“Head hurt worse,” Sousuke remarks offhandedly without looking away from the screen. 

“This is a big gash actually and I’m not sure how you pulled it off.”

Sousuke sighs and pulls his arm down from his scrutiny. “Will you ever let me live it down? I feel stupid enough already and Gou and Kisumi were merciless.”

Haruka wriggles farther up his chest and parts his hair approximately around where he cracked his head. “I’m not teasing I’m genuinely concerned,” he mumbles, carding through the locks until he finds the mark. 

“It’s fine, stop it.” Sousuke reaches up to grab Haruka’s hand but Haruka switches and grabs his first, looking for the cut he also gave himself on his finger. “Haruka,” he whines. “Seriously it’s embarrassing; don’t rub it in.”

“I’m _not,_ ” Haruka stresses, dropping his hand and shifting downwards again so he can make eye contact. “I really wanted to make sure you were okay, that’s all.”

Sousuke pouts and looks away. “It’s frustrating.”

Haruka tilts his chin up. “Didn’t you hit this too?”

“ _Haruka,_ ” Sousuke growls through his teeth, irritation settling in. “I am _fine._ ”

“You did,” Haruka confirms, brushing his lips to the right of his chin where Sousuke nicked it on the handle of the paint roller. He continues along his jaw and settles his head to the crook of Sousuke’s neck and begins his usual thoughtful patterns with his fingertips around Sousuke’s chest. “Thanks for unpacking. It looks nice.”

One of these days Sousuke’s going to get annoyed with him and _stay_ annoyed if only to prove that he _can._ “Like it?”

Haruka nods. “Making things look nice is a better skill to have than knowing how to paint a room off-white, you know.”

Sousuke hums in consideration. “I wanted to be useful though.”

Haruka sits up. “My boyfriend can’t paint a room without injuring himself. He can only unpack an entire apartment in two hours with time to arrange the pans by size. It’s the end for us. You’re useless.”

Sousuke’s sense of fondness for Haruka strikes at odd times, like now, when he forces some perspective Sousuke wasn’t considering through sarcasm and deadpan. Sousuke reaches up and moves some of Haruka’s hair off the side of his face that’s traveled too far over. “I fixed up our home and you made a business,” he murmurs quietly. “Maybe we’re a good team, huh?”

Haruka’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before falling lidded over a private smile. “Yeah.” 

Sousuke smooths past the side of face and to the back of his head and pulls him into a kiss, soft and intimate. Haruka licks but doens’t push, and Sousuke meets him but doesn’t take. They kiss simple like this all the time, but now his stomach is in knots, and the way Haruka barely pulls away and runs his thumb along his bottom lip before dipping back to him with a nearly silent note at the back of his throat makes light flash behind his closed eyelids. 

“I’m tired,” Haruka mumbles against his neck when they part and he settles again.

“I bet.”

“Put on something better,” he yawns.

Sousuke stretches for the remote on the coffee table and tabs up the channels until Haruka grunts over a documentary about space, and he drifts off during an explanation of an Oort Cloud long after Haruka goes silent and still above him.

-

Haruka doesn’t want him there for the opening. Sousuke offered to take the Monday off that they chose so that he could be nearby, or something, but was declined. He’s not sure what sort of help he could’ve provided anyway, but he did sort of want to see it all unfold. It’s Haruka’s gig and a lot of his money, though, and if that’s what he wants then that’s what Sousuke’s going to respect. He thinks Haruka and Kisumi can close and that the three of them can go out to get dinner and celebrate, but Haruka finally texts him around eight to say they’re still there working out residual issues that arose throughout the day. Sousuke tries not to be fatalistic like he tends to be, but he at least needs to accept that it’ll be rough going like this for a bit. 

Haruka comes home just after eleven with that nearly zealous determination on his face that carried him through the art show that started this whole idea, and Sousuke knows when he sees it that he’s going to figure it out. Sousuke’s happy to see it; it means Haruka knows he can do this and he doesn’t doubt it. He’s tired and they don’t speak a lot, but he wakes up early the next day and tries again. And onwards the entire week, even using half the night and well near to two in the morning halfway through to bake for their coffee area. When he gets home by nine that Saturday, the earliest so far, he walks in with a small smile of triumph and a glint in his gaze that keeps Sousuke firmly pinned to their bed. If he smoked, he would’ve needed a cigarette after that one.

From what he can gather over the following weeks when he can get Haruka to divulge information before he falls asleep on him, college students eat way too much sugar, use way too much paint, and ruin way too many canvases. Kisumi fights with the universities to allow student card payments daily for two solid weeks before working it out and stays late weeks after that figuring out a decent inventory system that includes everything on one spreadsheet and not the seemingly endless number of them that they’re working with now that take way too long to keep up to speed. They save more money coming up with their own methods, but it isn’t cheap on time and Kisumi insisted on not putting the work up front until they knew what they’d be dealing with to prevent having to re-do everything too many times. 

They keep loose hours in general, trying to pin down the best times to be open. They also may have slightly underestimated the traffic that two universities can provide to a small shop with a maximum sardine-packing capacity of twenty-eight. Haruka bakes at odd times as he gets used to the demand and holds impromptu classes to gauge the interest. He even works through his birthday and Sousuke makes an elaborate dinner after ten at night to accommodate his arrival to eat it. To his credit, Haruka manages to eat all of the fish and specialty sides before almost nodding off directly into the rice.

In short, Sousuke’s fucking impressed with them both and knows he would’ve probably had a nervous breakdown two days into opening if it were him. 

Slowly, though, Haruka and Kisumi start to get down the foundations of a routine. The inventory issue resolves with the help of both raw determination on Kisumi’s part to get it right and the natural ebb of not being a brand new store anymore. Haruka manages the baking down to twice a week and Sousuke helps him keep ingredients stocked and measured ahead of time. At the studio- store? Sousuke still, _still,_ isn’t sure- Haruka does whatever keeps him from talking to a lot of people, usually the register, and Kisumi’s happy to step in where art savviness isn’t required. Haruka gets home earlier bit by bit until one Thursday evening near the end of July he walks through with actual energy remaining in his step at seven after going in at nine that morning, and Sousuke breathes a sigh of relief that he might get to have a normal easy relationship with him again at this rate.

It’s their first outing to the local aquatic center since before they moved in together in May on the last Sunday in July that Haruka swims so hard he wheezes and Sousuke does his own slower laps to the point that he knows he’ll be sore the following day. He’s spent a lot of his free time while Haruka works late building himself back up to heavier weights at the gym- with Gou’s blessing, ongoing consult, and adjustments- and his shoulder hasn’t given him any issues as he’s done it. Gou tells him he can do an easier front crawl if he promises not to push it, and just to swim with Haruka he takes that to heart. Haruka grants him a rare smile that meets his eyes when he slaps the wall and nods satisfactorly with the progress. 

Haruka sits on his back on their floor that afternoon and helps him stretch it out per Sousuke’s instructions and it might be a bit counterproductive for him to do it from that position, but Sousuke isn’t about to stop him. Gou can fix anything Haruka can’t get and it isn’t like his verbal instruction is replacement for her years of training.

“There’s a girl at the studio,” Haruka remarks idly. Studio. Got it.

“Am I being replaced?” he muffles into the floor.

“She stays long… she paints well.” His fingers slow and still along his joint, easing to drawn lines in his skin in thought. “She’s very... sad.”

Sousuke turns his head to face Haruka’s direction without being able to see much of him to indicate he’s listening, as he isn’t catching where he’s going with this.

“I don’t… always know how to help people,” Haruka continues, even sounding slightly frustrated. “Even when I want to, I don’t know what to do.”

There’s an endless number of things going on right now in Haruka’s life. He’s so busy Sousuke’s taken to reminding him to do basic things for himself, like making time for baths and calling in prescription refills. And yet he focuses on one stranger.

“Have you talked to her?”

He makes a grunt that means ‘no’. 

“Well maybe you don’t have to.”

Haruka shifts his hands to his trapezius and rubs firmly starting at his neck and downwards. Sousuke doesn’t bother holding back a groan. “I was thinking of offering to stay open later for her if she wanted the space alone for another hour or so.”

“That’s a good- _oh hell,_ ” he hisses when Haruka stops at a knot at the bottom of his rhomboid and drops his elbow into it. “Idea.”

“You wouldn’t be disappointed?”

“W- _ouch_ \- Why?”

“Since I’d stay _late,_ ” he grunts over a hard, final push to the spot. “And I do a lot of that as it is.”

Sousuke twists his head a little more. “Can we get off the floor and I’ll make dinner while we talk? I can’t see you.”

Haruka pushes off his back to stand and Sousuke follows, rolling his neck and shoulders and reaching for his shirt over the arm of the couch.

“Don’t,” Haruka says simply with a tilt of his head before walking to the kitchen.

He stares at the shirt in his hand blankly and slowly sets it back down.

Haruka’s already getting out chicken, fish and pre-made rice when Sousuke joins him.

“Let me cook,” Sousuke insists, dropping his chin onto Haruka’s shoulder and following him around as he moves.

Haruka slides the cutting board to where he wants it and goes back to the fridge for vegetables, shrugging Sousuke off as he does. “No. I’m tired of baking. Go away.” 

Sousuke sighs and leans on the counter as far away as he can. “ _Anyway_ I was going to compliment you on your big heart but I take it back.”

Haruka snorts and starts to julienne a zucchini. “It’s not about that.”

“It’s a selfless thing to do. I’m not about to be a dick and say I’m sad if you’re not home by six because you’re offering a few hours of peace to someone who might need it.”

Haruka hums and moves on to an onion after a minute, then places a pan over the stove and kicks on the heat. Sousuke reaches over for the oil and splashes it in for him so it’s hot when he transfers the vegetables to it. They’re sizzling and Haruka parts and returns with soy sauce and sesame oil for a quick seasoning. He frowns as he transfers it all to a serving bowl.

“I- You know I haven’t even asked you how work’s been for you,” he says sadly, adding his fish to the pan to fry quickly. 

“Oh,” Sousuke says in mild surprise. “I guess it’s fine. Pretty standard. I stay busy, they seem to appreciate me.”

“I’m sorry. You deserve more attention from me.”

“Haruka you’ve barely started coming home early enough to eat dinner before the sun’s down. I’m not sweating it. I knew what this would be for a while.”

Haruka pinches his expression and finishes up his fish in silence before moving it to his plate and moving to warm the pre-cooked chicken. Sousuke keeps it to himself that he did that one out of order and now his poultry is going to taste like mackerel-

Haruka pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “...I messed this up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Won’t even taste it.” They both know that isn’t true, but Sousuke would eat Haruka’s fish for him at this point as long as it means dinner together.

“Come back,” he mumbles.

Sousuke moves and returns his chin to Haruka’s shoulder.

-

They hold their grand opening the first Saturday in August at Kisumi’s behest to hold such a thing. Approximately one year since Sousuke went to California, but more importantly a day into the Olympic Games that Rin is swimming in. He’ll be exceptionally difficult to follow due to timezones over the next week, but Sousuke’s got all the alarms on his phone set to wake up him and Haruka at awful times- including one tonight- and escape to the breakroom at work as appropriate. But not even Kisumi plans on missing it for anything. 

“Wow, it looks great in here,” Sousuke remarks, finally getting to see _Cascade Supply and Studio_ in all its lived-in glory. Haruka relented and let him come to the event, at least. 

“Right?” Kisumi says proudly. “Cozy, cute, marginally profitable over a twelve month projection. What’s not to like?”

Haruka disappears into the back for a sheet of baked goods that will be available for free. He stayed home and made a few of these sheets the day prior. Sousuke is starting to worry for the integrity of their oven.

“He’s something else here,” Kisumi says once Haruka’s out of earshot. 

Sousuke looks over.

“He does a lot for some of the more... needy customers. The ones that look overwhelmed or don’t hear me when I say we’re closing. Something about the tortured artist, I guess. Spends a lot of time using his weird metaphors on them and they actually nod along. It’s like some exclusive language among the eccentric,” he laughs. 

“He mentioned a girl he stays later for sometimes now.”

Kisumi smiles. “Yeah she’s a sweetheart. Just having a rough go of it, I think. Far from home. There are a few others that are here during the day pretty consistently, just to work on personal things and not school projects. Turns out people just like company sometimes. I wanted to start charging a cover for staying to work like that but Haru is against it. I guess I see why. Then they wouldn’t come at all.”

Haruka emerges with the baking sheet and stands at the coffee counter to unwrap it and Sousuke has never felt more humble in his entire damn life just watching him and thinking about what it takes for someone quiet and reserved like Haruka to step into a role like _that._

“Rin told me once if I looked hard enough at him I’d see a lot more,” Sousuke says while Haruka is still distracted.

“Hmm. Sounds like something obtuse he’d say.”

Sousuke chuckles. “Yeah. He’s right though. I don’t know if he knows _how_ right.”

Kisumi’s eyes widen. “Well Jesus don’t fucking tell him that. For his own safety. Egos that big are dangerous.”

“Hey,” Haruka calls. “Stop talking about me and help. We open in half an hour.”

Kisumi pouts. “Did I mention he’s a mean business partner too?”

Sousuke watches them set out samples and information and make sure it all looks nice and presentable. Kisumi makes himself a coffee and Haruka bickers with him about doing that all the time and how he needs to pay the store because that espresso machine wasn’t cheap. Kisumi says he’ll do that as soon as Haruka stops passing out treats for free. All in all the exact situation Sousuke envisioned. 

Haruka consolidates the last few baked goods onto a small plate a few hours in while Kisumi works a dwindling crowd and runs the register. Sousuke leans on the coffee counter in a quiet state of observation as this has all been fucking fascinating. They run like a well-oiled machine. 

“I think we’ll close early so we can all go get dinner,” Haruka says. “It would be nice to go out and make someone else cook after all of this work.”

Sousuke nods in agreement. “It would.”

Haruka shakes a tray off into the trash behind the counter and sets it on a shelf down low, then stands at it. “What would you like?”

Sousuke turns and blinks. “Uh… I just drink sludge. I have no idea.”

Haruka smiles and grabs milk from the mini-fridge, then turns and makes a bunch of noise at the machine. “Took me a while to figure this thing out,” he says over the whirring.

“It looks complicated.”

“Not so bad,” he continues. “Just overwhelming at a glance. But I don’t drink coffee so I don’t know what tastes good.” The noise stops and Haruka nudges him a basic latte in an insulated cup.

Sousuke tastes it and hums. “I think you got it.”

Kisumi sidles up next to him all of a sudden. A curious glance shows he's closed the door after the last customer and flipped the open sign. “Oh, boyfriend perks are a thing now? Rude, Haru.”

“I like him more than you.”

Kisumi presses the back of his hand to his forehead. “I’m _broken hearted._ I’m your work husband.”

“Work husbands have to pay.”

Sousuke snorts and nudges Kisumi with his shoulder. “Tough break.”

Kisumi smirks and takes a cookie. “Well shall we close this up and get shitty down the street at that dive izakaya? Stay up and watch our Rin Rin kill everyone in prelims? Sou you got the bigger T.V. and we can walk. Where’s Gou?”

Sousuke takes a sip before answering. “Iwatobi for the week to watch with their mom and the Tachibanas.”

“Aww,” Kisumi pouts. “Well I guess I forgive her for that. Come on Haru, give me a hand with cleaning. I’ll come in and close the register tomorrow.” 

Sousuke helps too to speed things up, hunger gnawing at him. He’s sweeping in the front when he turns quickly and knocks his arm into that _fucking tiny counter_ again with a yelp. Kisumi sees the entire thing and pauses cleaning the register area to laugh so hard he cries and Haruka levels him the blankest stare he’s ever seen.

By the time they walk out of the izakaya some ungodly amount of time after arriving to it, Sousuke saddled with a receipt that’s way too long in his back pocket, it’s nearly ten at night and Rin’s swimming in an hour. Sousuke stops in a convenience store and picks up snacks for them all and they stumble into their apartment in hysterics while Haruka shoves them around to help them avoid tripping on any and everything. Sousuke falls onto the couch and Kisumi finds his armchair. Haruka joins them with drinks and a bowl of chips, then finds the channel they need, just in time for the announcers to start discussing the competition and start showing camera pans of the pool and some of the swimmers milling about.

“Wow,” Kisumi gasps. “Look at that.”

“Everything he’s been sacrificing for,” Sousuke remarks in a short window of sobriety. “Since when? Nearly his entire life?”

Haruka looks at him from his side of the couch thoughtfully. “When you put it that way, it’s amazing.”

_“-atsuoka from our very own Japan, swimming four-hundred meter freestyle prelims for Australia. We’ll be sure to cheer him on anyway.”_

The flash of red dips behind some teammates, and swimmers start to disperse into positions. Rin takes the block, and as always, is immediately noticeable among everyone else even with a cap.

Sousuke wishes he could say he harnesses the composure to keep it together to see Rin standing there with that grin when the camera finds his face for a split second but he most certainly does not. 

The tears stinging his eyes are about a lot more than Rin swimming on the biggest world stage there is. 

They’re about Haruka who inspired Rin to be the best he could be and gets to watch him swim and carry the torch for _both of them_ now. They’re about Makoto somewhere off to the side where they can’t see him, thinking about how fucking happy he is right then and there to see the love of his life get what he worked so tirelessly for. They’re about Sousuke and Kisumi being the shield and the sword Rin needed to break through the grief of losing his father so he could find his dream at all. They’re about Gou and the Tachibana twins in Iwatobi cheering for their brother with their parents together in one room all gushing over _their son,_ soon to be in-law or not. They’re about every person Rin’s ever known looking at their television and thinking they _know that guy._

They’re about Rin’s eyes burning with the determination to make them all proud.

Most of all, they’re about Sousuke and where he is now. The butterfly effect Rin’s swimming caused that put him into the best position of his life: with Haruka crawling over to him to settle on his lap when he notices Sousuke’s expression twist up with these thoughts, passing underneath the lanterns to get to him. Kisumi reaches over and pats his forearm resting on the arm of the couch before returning to himself and facing away, similarly suddenly choked up and quiet.

“You too, huh?” Haruka murmurs unsteadily, twisting to get closer.

Sousuke wraps his arms around Haruka and nuzzles his neck, stubbornly fighting back the knot in his throat to speak. There isn’t a single one of them that would rather be anywhere else other than where they are right now, and Sousuke could only dream of having such a lofty thought about himself not that long ago. 

“Yeah,” he answers. “We made it.”

The starting horn sounds.


	17. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to embarrass your husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… huge warning… this is extremely self-indulgent, since the actual story is over and I’m feeling pretty sad about it tbh. Feel free not to take this seriously like... at all. Just don’t kill me is all I ask.
> 
> This is all I got for ya! Thanks again, the support has been incredible. Onto the next one~
> 
> iskabee@tumblr

“Miki will be fine, Kisumi,” Haruka reiterates.

Kisumi pulls his key from the deadbolt and turns to him and shrugs the backpack on his shoulder. “If this place burns down in our absence I’m blaming you and your wild idea to put her in charge.”

“I’m aware. You’ve told me repeatedly.”

He looks entirely unamused and starts walking towards Haruka’s apartment. 

“You should probably trust her eventually, she’s worked with us for over a year now, and known us since we opened,” Haruka says as he catches up.

“I do trust her. But not for four days by herself at the start of the spring term. Even Sou thinks it’s a risk, you know.”

“Both of you give me a headache,” he snaps. “We haven’t taken time off in the two years we’ve been operating could you _consider_ that it might be worth the risk for our friends?”

“It’s the only reason I agreed to it at _all_ , thank you,” Kisumi protests. “But one person running the store where it generally takes three should at least give you pause.”

Haruka sighs and shelves it. He’ll come around when they return to an intact business. Miki is more than capable and she can call with any issues. They walk in silence until they arrive, and Haruka opens the unlocked door to his home with Kisumi following in.

“Sousuke,” Kisumi calls next to Haruka’s ear, making him wince away.

“Room,” Sousuke calls back.

They find him zipping up a large duffel bag atop the bed for himself and Haruka. “Just finished. Did you give Miki my phone number?”

“Oh my god,” Haruka mumbles. “She’s had it for months. If you guys are going to do this the entire time-”

“I’m kidding, Haruka,” Sousuke eases. 

He huffs and shakes his head. “Let’s go so we don’t miss the next train. We’re already not going to get in until nearly midnight.” He heads to the kitchen to make sure Sousuke didn’t forget his pills, then to the bathroom for a quick once-over on that too.

“I got everything,” Sousuke says as he passes him with their bag. “Promise.”

Kisumi pushes into the bathroom and hipchecks Haruka towards the door. “Gotta pee.”

“Door this time, please,” he says with an eyeroll that Kisumi matches as he leans back to close it in Haruka’s face.

Haruka leaves him to it and finds Sousuke at the door getting his shoes on. He straightens as he finishes and grins fondly. “Hey, how was the store?”

“I was distracted by Gou texting me all day,” Haruka sighs. “Couldn’t finish my work. You?”

“Me too, and me either.” He shrugs. “Oh well. We’ve been looking forward to this.”

Haruka hums and steps forward to embrace Sousuke around his neck and press a kiss to his lips, sort of enamored with him all of a sudden. Sousuke hugs him back at his waist and meets his kiss softly, and Haruka insists forward with a swipe of tongue, continuing on even when the bathroom door opens.

“Stop it,” Kisumi whines walking up to them. “Always when I’m around.”

Sousuke breaks and glares at him. “You are literally always around every day and even some nights. Fuck off.”

“Prickly pear,” Kisumi mumbles. “Oh, Haru, you have a futon, right? You know I’m not a cuddler.”

Haruka turns away from Sousuke. “Yes. And you’re sleeping in the spare room.”

“Cold blooded! Let me stay on the floor of your childhood room at least. The _memories..._ ”

Sousuke yanks Haruka around and back to him by his shoulders and and kisses him sloppily, bumping their noses together and mostly only getting his bottom lip, then hugs him tightly. “Haruka, I am so _romantically in love with you,_ ” he deadpans, looking past him and at Kisumi as he says it. Haruka snorts against his shoulder. “We should tell each other that _all night long.”_

“ _Jesus,_ okay, okay,” Kisumi groans. “I get it. Stop _torturing_ me.” He shoulders past them and throws the door open, lifting his bag on the way. 

Occasionally, and at Sousuke’s insistence _very_ occasionally, Kisumi is a nice variable to their bed. But not to their relationship, and Sousuke takes great fun in driving that point home, as Kisumi can barely contain his discomfort around them when they’re affectionate. Haruka’s not even sure how it happened, but he knows Kisumi is persuasive and no one outwardly hates it and Sousuke promises Haruka that he’s okay with it. He even initiates it once in an extremely blue moon.

Haruka locks up behind them all, luggage over shoulders, and they head for the station to start towards Iwatobi for a long weekend away to celebrate the marriage of their best friends. Sousuke tells him he loves him an annoying number of times that night anyway like nothing short of an obnoxious infatuated teenager, even with Kisumi the room over, if only to fluster him. 

Something in the air, he supposes.

-

“Welcome to our fuckin’ kickass abode,” Rin greets with a flash of his teeth, waving the three of them into his house the following day. “We’re still getting ready.”

Haruka and Kisumi wander in and Sousuke stops to pull his friend into a hug. Been too goddamn long. “Finally,” he breathes.

Rin nods and pats him on the back. “I know. Sorry.”

Sousuke steps back and starts to take his shoes off, balancing with one hand against the wall. “Don’t do it again.”

“Aww, come on Sou,” Rin laughs, “What’s another few years in Australia at this point? Round three?”

He scoffs. “I’ll hold Makoto hostage if you try to go anywhere. He’ll come with me willingly, too. Listen to you, your accent’s sloppy.”

Rin frowns. “Is it? That’s embarrassing. I guess I better stay put, then.”

Sousuke grins and hands him a card in an envelope from under his arm. “Here, it ain’t shit. Haruka couldn’t finish your real wedding gift in time. He’ll ship it to you.”

Rin snorts and makes a sort of gesture to indicate he and Makoto will open it together later. “And what effort did you put into this gift that Haru is likely exclusively working on all by himself?”

“I got you the card,” he says in mock-offense. “If you don’t like it I’ll return it.”

Rin chuckles and starts walking in after closing the door, then disappears for a moment to set the card down elsewhere. Sousuke looks around and nods appreciatively. It’s a damn nice house they found, and Rin really flexed his design muscles in going all out to make it look as expensive as it all probably was. 

Rin’s two bronzes and single gold hang framed on the main wall of the entryway among a myriad of other photos spanning the last decade of his life. Sousuke doesn’t toss around adjectives of beauty too often to describe anything, but that wall most certainly fits in with that spectrum somewhere. He hones in on the photo of the four of them from that dinky pizza parlour in California years prior, and smiles sadly at his pissy face and Haruka’s blank features. They tried, at least. 

“You and Haru could not have been more unenthused in that photo,” Rin grumbles behind him. “I asked for so little.”

“That was a rough trip, I fully admit it to you now that it’s long behind us.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve talked to Haru about it since. I should thank you, actually,” he sighs in response. 

Sousuke turns to him. “Why? I was a shithead and just made everything complicated back then.”

“Yeah you were but, so was I, so was Mako. If Haru didn’t come out that week because you didn’t, or something, who knows where we’d all be. It freaks me out how close it came to us all being fucking done with each other. I can’t imagine me and Makoto would’ve been okay knowing you guys weren’t in our lives anymore. So really, thanks, past you, for being able to pull your head out of your ass long enough to help someone out. Not that it was a bad deal for you, lover boy.”

Sousuke lands a playful punch on his arm. “I’m not drunk enough to pour my heart out to you yet.”

“Let’s fix that then. The party starts soon.”

Sousuke finds a corner and quickly once the house fills up. Way too many people for him, most of who he doesn’t know. At least thirty spilling out into the backyard. He acknowledges the Iwatobi guys- Rei and Nagisa- with a nod before they wander off, and forces himself to catch up with Nitori and the Mikoshibas for all of about two minutes each before excusing himself for the restroom all three times. Haruka’s being a saint and helping Rin and Makoto keep up with the food, but it makes him unavailable. He lost Kisumi about forty minutes ago, somehow. That leaves Gou, who’s crossing the room towards him now.

“Hey shortcake,” he smiles, stepping forward to hug her. “Haven’t seen you in like three entire days.”

“How did I ever go longer than that without talking to you?” she pouts. “Light of my life.”

He laughs and lets her go. “So is this it? Rin feeds people and brags about his husband while they can’t tell him to shut up?”

“No,” she says with a mischievous smile. “He’s going to embarrass Makoto soon, once everyone’s eaten.”

“He’s going to _what?_ ” Makoto chokes, stumbling a step on his way past them with a stack of cups.

“Oh shit,” Gou squeaks.

Makoto smiles stiffly. “Hi Sousuke, sorry I’ve been too busy to stop and chat. But you, Gou, _honestly._ You’re not allowed to collude with Rin,” he pouts. “ _Especially_ at my expense.”

“It wasn’t collusion!” she protests. “It was entirely his idea.”

Makoto narrows his eyes and looks into the kitchen in Rin and Haruka’s direction. “We’ll see about that,” he mumbles cryptically before walking away.

Sousuke stares after him. “Uh oh.”

“I’m not saying _anything,_ ” Gou giggles. “I’m curious now. Come on, you look broody all by yourself. Have a drink or five with me.”

He ends up on the floor of the living room with her a giggling mess, other people strewn about dancing to music or in circles around each other talking loudly. He can hear Rin yelling more and more often as he drinks and Makoto hushing him around parts of the house. He’s sure Haruka is somewhere enjoying himself. Probably. He should go look. He tries to stand and stumbles back down and Gou erupts into laughter.

“Fuck,” he laughs. “I wanted to find Haruka.”

She leans on him and hitches a few times as her laugh dies down and he throws an arm around her shoulders. 

“When do I get a wedding party like this for you two?” she asks, looking up at him through her bangs.

He smiles. “You won’t, but if you want me to throw you a regular party, just ask.”

“Oh, maybe,” she says as if she hadn’t thought of a party without a reason.

Sousuke looks out and finally sees a shock of pink across the room disappear in giggles down the hall with Ryugazaki shoving him along. Interesting, yet unsurprising.

Haruka finally emerges from behind a group and walks over to them, all but falling onto the ground next to him. He groans with exhaustion and leans back against the wall. 

“Haruka will you throw me a party for no reason?” Gou sings over to him.

Haruka stares in bewilderment for a moment and takes the beer Sousuke has clasped in his free hand for himself. “Sure?”

She smiles and squirms excitedly from her spot.

Sousuke leans over to him. “Finally done?”

He nods and takes a long and desperate drink. “I figured I‘d get dragged into it, it’s fine.” Sousuke gives him a quick peck on the temple in sympathy. Haruka sets the bottle down and moves to sit on Sousuke’s crossed legs with a grunt that tells Sousuke he’s too tired to give a shit that he’s doing it. Gou repositions her lean to Haruka’s arm and he reaches up and pats her head as he settles his back against Sousuke’s chest.

“Aren’t you both too old to use me as furniture like this?” Sousuke grumbles.

“No,” they answer.

“All right!” Rin yells across everyone. “Listen up!” The chatter dies down slowly and Rin calls for attention a few more times. “Hey, listen! Where’s my husband?!”

“I’ve been right next to you all day, Rin,” Makoto says next to him. 

“Right! If any of you didn’t know, this is my _husband._ Can you believe it?! This tall, handsome, brick shithouse that knew my name before any of ya?! Well ‘cept… you Sou. And Gou. And Kisumi, wherever the fuck he went… Anyway. I had a crush on this kid, _for fuckin’ ever,_ and it was a total crapshoot to ask when I knew I was gonna be leaving but I thought, you know, if he said no, I’d be halfway across the world for a while to hide in embarrassment. But he said _yes_ and fucking _went on a date with me_ right after high school, even though he knew I was leavin’ again, and now I’ve been with him for almost ten years!”

Makoto looks like he wants to _die,_ but he stands tall next to Rin anyway.

“Then I was gone and I missed him,” Rin says quieter. “I didn’t know what to do, I knew I wouldn’t be back here for a long time, and it got really hard without him around. I made it a few years on my own but knew I had so many more… I couldn’t do it. But I couldn’t ask him to come to me, either. So I didn’t.” He clears his throat. “He asked if he could come anyway. He wanted to. He wanted to be with me,” Rin chokes and his tears spill over. Sousuke rolls his eyes and Haruka looks up at him in disgust.

“Then he asked me to marry him a year later in our piece of shit flat in Sydney after I’d had one of the worst practices I’d ever had and wanted nothing more than to give up and go home again. And fuck you, I cried about it then, I’m gonna cry about it now, and not a single one of you can say anything,” he sobs. _“Sousuke.”_

 _“What?!”_ Sousuke shouts in disbelief and Haruka’s shoulders bounce in quiet amusement.

Makoto looks alarmed by his sudden mood deviation and pulls him in by his shoulders. “So thank you for coming!” he picks up. “It means a lot that you’re here and supporting us. And before Rin recovers and tries to embarrass me again, I want you all to know that he is _much_ easier to embarrass than I am, and all I have to do is this-” 

Rin tries to pull away with wide eyes. “Wait, Mako-” Makoto stops his escape and grabs him by the sides of his face and kisses him while Rin’s last syllable is muffled in his throat. Gou pumps a fist forward and yells and Hazuki and the rest of the loud types whoop from around the room, and then Makoto lets him go and bows like he just performed a magic trick as Rin covers his face with his hands and groans.

“Enjoy the rest of the night,” Makoto says with a wide smile when he stands straight, dragging Rin away by his arm to the kitchen.

“If you ever do that to me I’ll burn all of your swimsuits,” Sousuke says sweetly before kissing the top of Haruka’s head.

He laughs and drags Sousuke’s arm across the front of his shoulders. “I’d start the fire for you.”

Gou scoots further down so she can lie against Haruka’s hip and yawns. “I want an ice swan at my party,” she mumbles.

“And Kisumi to pop out of your cake?” Sousuke suggests.

She giggles. “Well, if he’s offering.”


End file.
